


Blind Item

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [87]
Category: College Football RPF, Glee
Genre: Closeted Character, College Football, Infidelity, M/M, Rumors, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An online rumor hits too close to home, and the added scrutiny forces Finn, Kurt, and Noah to reevaluate themselves and their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Utah  [September 24, 2013]

**Author's Note:**

> The downloadable playlist for this story cycle is available [here](http://storyof3boys.livejournal.com/104720.html).

After class, Finn decides he should check in with Karofsky and see how much heat he’s taking over this insanity. He texts _You saw the blind item?_ and it’s only a few minutes before his phone dings with a text back from Karofsky.

_Yeah who uses the word tryst these days?_

_Fuck if I know dude. U taking heat?_

_Some yeah but more ppl wanting to take on perez for me. wish i’d known i had such an exciting life_

_Cool if I call u?_ Finn types, because this is probably a better conversation for phone than text.

 _Sure_ comes back quickly, so Finn scrolls to Karofsky’s number and dials.

“Hey,” Karofsky answers after just one ring.

“It’s not you,” Finn blurts out, instead of responding like a normal person.

“It’s not?” Karofsky sounds somewhat puzzled. “I mean, yeah, I didn’t think drinks or a movie were scandalous, but I figured it was just exaggerated.”

“Yeah, well. It isn’t you.”

“Um. How–you’re sure?”

“Because it’s me,” Finn says, trying to keep his voice neutral. 

“You piss someone off, Hudson? Trying to mess with you?” Karofsky doesn’t quite sound amused, but like he’s discussing someone’s bad attempt at a joke. 

“Possibly. Don’t know who, though,” Finn says. “But, uh.”

“Wait.” Karofsky sounds incredulous. “Are you saying–?”

“Just saying that if anybody says anything to you or gives you any shit, you should just know it’s not you. I know what they’re talking about, so, you know.”

“Wow. Uh. Okay.” Karofsky laughs nervously. “So not the guy in Utah, either?”

Finn laughs. “Yeah, well. Kurt made that up. That was Kurt.”

“So out of every sophomore on a top-25 team, it comes down to Lima, Ohio.” Karofsky definitely sounds amused now. 

“Shit, bro,” Finn says, probably not sounding anywhere as amused as Karofsky. “Don’t it always?”

“Just sayin’. Who’d’ve thought it.” Karofsky pauses. “Wisconsin talking?”

“Mostly about you, but I’ve been telling them it’s not. There’s looks. Don’t know how much is real and how much is me being paranoid, but hell, not like I’ve got a lot of experience with this,” Finn says. “Guess I get to learn what watching my back feels like.”

“Wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” Karofsky admits. “Got anyone to talk to?”

“Gonna talk to Kurt and Puck tonight, and there’s always Syd. Syd rocks,” Finn says. “You should get you some lesbians.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll get right on that. Next week.”

“Anyway, figured you might feel better if you knew. Won’t stop the rumors, but at least one of us can skip the paranoia, right?”

“Right. Uh, good luck, dude.”

Finn laughs once, short and bitter. “Yeah. Great fucking luck I got.” He sighs. “You uh. Can tell Casey hey for me, alright?” He figures he may as well let Karofsky know he’s got the go ahead to talk about it with Casey, ‘cause that’s just fair and anyway, Casey’s probably one of those people wanting to take on Perez, and if anybody might manage to get to him on Karofsky’s behalf, it would be Casey. 

“Yeah, okay, sure.” Karofsky pauses. “Later, Hudson.”

“Later, man.” Finn ends the call and pockets his phone. There’s that done, at least.


	2. Blind Item

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rumor doesn't have to be confined to one team or one campus. [September 23, 2013]

Kurt yawns a little as he walks into Theatre History and sits down in his usual seat. He pulls out his phone and answers Noah’s text quickly.

_yeah just tired. planes trains luckily no automobiles. xx_

Zachary drops dramatically into the seat next to Kurt. “Tell your Noah _heeeyyyy_ for me.”

“Stoned again?” Kurt asks, shaking his head. “How do you afford all of your pot?”

Zachary grins lazily. “Pyramid scheme. I’ll explain it sometime when I’m not high.”

“So never, then,” Kurt says, returning the grin in spite of himself.

“Thursdays. I never smoke on Thursdays, remember?” Zachary says. “Poor form to burn seven days in a row.”

“I’ll make a note of it.” Kurt refrains, barely, from laughing. “How was your weekend?”

“Wine, women, and song. Well, Arbor Mist, woman, and bong, but that’s close. Oh, hey, how was your trip to Finlandia?”

“Already cold.” Kurt rolls his eyes. “I swear. I know why there’s so many Swedish people up there.”

“The fish? The meatballs?” Zachary cocks his head at Kurt. “Ikea fans?”

“You can get both the fish and the meatballs _at_ Ikea.”

“Can’t argue with Ikea, sir, you just cannot.”

“Exactly. God, a cinnamon bun sounds heavenly right now.”

“Shhhhhit, Kurt, don’t talk about food right now!” Zachary groans. “I’m starving. You have any of those cracker things in your bag?”

“Maybe. You have anything interesting to tell me?” After more than a year of classes together, Kurt likes to think they have a very nice symbiotic relationship going. Kurt provides a few snacks for Zachary’s pot-related munchies, and in return, Zachary provides gossip, sometimes quite obscure.

“Ooh, yes, I will trade your delicious crackers for some tasty, tasty gossip. Crackers first, though.”

“You drive such a hard bargain.” Kurt fishes the crackers out of his bag and hands a few to Zachary. “Well?”

“Hang on, let me pull up the link. My cousin put this up on Facebook this morning, but now I’m seeing it all over the place,” Zachary says, then hands his phone over to Kurt. “Thought it would be one of those things you’d find interesting.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow but takes the phone, skimming the first sentence before his eyes widen at the second. “Oh, god. I could—” He stops as he keeps reading. “Oh, _fuck_.”

“What? You’re reading the football thing, right? I didn’t accidentally link you to straight porn again, did I?”

“No, I— shit. _Shit_. Where was this posted?”

“Facebook, but I think it was from Perez originally. I don’t know, I’ve seen it all over since he posted it this morning.”

“Wretched, wretched man,” Kurt spits out. “I hate him. How— what— sometimes people aren’t _ready_!”

Zachary looks at Kurt with a concerned expression. “You alright, Kurt? I know you feel pretty strongly about the forced outing thing, but… you’re taking this pretty personally here.”

“I know who he’s talking about.”

“Oh yeah?” Zachary’s eyebrows rise slowly towards his hairline. “You know the guy he’s— waaaait a minute. How many football players _do_ you guys know?”

“Three.” Kurt hands the phone back to Zachary and grabs the edge of the desk with his hands.

“And one of them’s gay?”

Kurt laughs, a brittle, high laugh. “More like I can only tell you definitively that one of them is straight.”

“Right, well, I mean, we’ve all met Finn, so is this another one of the guys from your high school?”

Kurt makes a strangled noise and thinks absurdly it’s hilarious that _now_ he picks up on one of Finn’s habits. Slow understanding crosses Zachary’s face.

“Kurt? Is… this… Finn?” Zachary asks, slowly.

“Well, it’s not Sam,” Kurt manages. “I— I should call Noah.”

“Yeah, too right, you should do that. Oh, I am _so_ sorry. Me and my stupid gossip blogs, Kurt, yeah? Maybe it’s nothing.”

“Better to know, I guess.” Kurt stands up and shoulders his bag. “I just— fuck. Can you post somewhere that it’s about someone in, hmm. Utah?”

“Sure, sure. I’m on it. I’ll comment everywhere, too. ‘Heard it’s that guy at Utah’,” Zachary says, nodding his head rapidly.

“I’ll— Later, okay?”

Zachary nods again, waving Kurt away with one hand, and Kurt hurries out of the classroom, mentally plotting the fastest way back across the park to Mannes.

 

Finn’s on the leg press machine, wishing he’d gone to bed about two hours earlier the night before and that Edwards would either shut up or talk just a little bit louder so Finn could hear what they’re laughing about over there. He makes a little mantra out of his mental bitching while he continues with his set.

_Stupid. Fucking. Leg press._ Up, then down.  
 _Stupid. Fucking. Edwards._ Up. Down.  
 _Stupid. Fucking. New York._  
 _Stupid. Fucking. Staying up too late_.  
 _Stupid. Fucking. Feeling sorry for myself_.

“Oh, man. _Man_! Guys, you gotta hear this one!” Edwards calls out, raising his voice so the entire team, spread out around the weight room, can hear him.

“Where’d you find this one, Edwards?” someone calls back.

“Operation Sports. Seriously, listen to this! Blind item posted last night. You guys wanna hear it?”

“Read the damn thing!”

“Okay, okay. ‘The starting roster for a top-25 NCAA football team is a nice place to be for this college sophomore, and apparently? So is the closet. Towering over his teammates and classmates alike, this “perfect gentleman” was spotted post-tryst twice this weekend, and not with any of the “fairer sex”. Wonder what his buddies would think if they knew?’”

Finn’s foot slips and the leg press weights slide down with a crash. “Fuck!” he says, jumping back on the seat. 

“Hey, careful, Hudson,” The Doug says. “Don’t hurt yourself!”

“Muscle cramp. Fuck, yeah, I’m gonna go walk it off,” Finn says, rummaging through his bag for his phone.

“Holy shit!” someone says. “Read that again, Edwards! Who is it? Does it say?”

“It’s a blind item! But there’s a lot of guesses. ‘The starting roster for a top-25 NCAA football team is a nice place to be for this college sophomore, and apparently? So is the closet.’” Edwards pauses. “Well, duh, no player’s out. We talk about that all the time here! ‘Towering over his teammates and classmates alike, this “perfect gentleman” was spotted post-tryst twice this weekend, and not with any of the “fairer sex”. Wonder what his buddies would think if they knew?’ Seems like some people think it’s a guy at Tech, some others are saying Utah.” He stops and snorts. “Huh.”

“Tech, huh?” Finn says, his voice sounding strained to his own ears. “They, uh. They say anything else?” He realizes he’s unconsciously hunching a little, like he’s going to miraculously become shorter. “Utah, you said?”

“Hey, yeah, you know a guy at Tech, right?” Edwards throws out. “Could be him?” Edwards shrugs. “Hell, there’s all kinds of guesses. Even a few mentioning us!”

“Fuck,” Finn mutters under his breath. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck, _going on my run now_!” he adds, raising his voice.

No one seems to care much, turning back to Edwards and demanding more information from him and his Operation Sports forum. Finn shoves his phone into the pocket of his track pants and jogs out of the weight room. First, he heads to the track and runs. He doesn’t actually count how many laps; he just runs until he hits the wall and just _can’t_ run any more, and only then does he pull out his phone, bring up the Operation Sports page, and read through the forum post. From there, he goes to the original post on perezhilton.com, rereads it, and then scrolls down through the comments.

When he hits the one that says, ‘Betcha can't have just one? I heard it was a twofer in more than one sense of the word’, he has a sudden and strangely rational thought of, “oh, this must be how Puck always felt,” before he leans over and retches all over the ground beside the track. _Oh fucking fucking fuck._

 

Noah’s leaving one of the practice rooms, headed for his next class, when Kurt comes running up to him. “K? What’s wrong?”

“It’s— fucking Perez Hilton, you know I hate him, but god, Noah, _look_.” He presses the phone into Noah’s hand. “Just. Read it.”

“Okay. Shh.” Noah wraps one arm around Kurt’s shoulders, pulling him close. “What’s— oh. Oh.” Noah can feel his entire body tense as he scans the text Kurt has on the screen. “ _Fuck_.”

“I mean,” Kurt laughs hysterically. “It could be David. That would be ironic. Right?”

“It could,” Noah agree slowly, nodding, knowing even as he’s saying it that the timing makes it a little too much of a coincidence. “ _Why_?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. He’s not answering his phone. We should— we should, I don’t know, what should we do? Should we go back out there?”

“Fuck, K. We can’t. We _can’t_ , someone’s obviously watching.” Someone’s watching them, but presumably just in Madison, which means their first impulse is very much the wrong one.

“Shit.” A little bit of the life drains out of Kurt. “You’re right. No, you’re right. Shit.”

“Let’s… let’s go home, okay? Maybe Finn will call.” And they can break down without people asking too many questions.

“Mmmkay.” Kurt leans against Noah and shudders. “God, what if— we did this?”

“No. Perez did it, and whoever sent it in. No one else did anything wrong.”

“He’s not ready for this.”

Noah sighs. “I know, blue eyes.”

 

The good thing about fraternities, Finn decides, the great thing, is that it’s entirely possible to waltz into any single one of them on campus before noon and be shitfaced by one. He may have decided pledging wasn’t for him, but he knows plenty of guys who did and everybody wants to pour a shot for the quarterback during a winning season.

By two, Pike house has started to fill up a little, and by three, the party finds them, and by four-thirty, Finn’s doing tequila shots off a cheerleader, licking salt out of her belly button and eating a lime slice out of her mouth. He’s never been more drunk in his life, but nobody’s giving him any weird looks. Everything is perfectly normal.

He doesn’t remember the cheerleader’s name, but she looks a little bit like Brittany, and Finn think maybe he calls her Brittany a few times as they’re navigating their way through the house full of people. He’s pretty certain he calls her Brittany while he’s fucking her over the counter in Pike’s upstairs bathroom, her ass nearly in the sink, and when he catches sight of himself in the mirror, he almost gets sick all over her and has to put his palms down on the counter to steady himself, because this is just all so very, very _fucked_.

“Finn Hudson?” There’s a brief rap on the door and then it opens to reveal Syd, whose eyes widen. “Oh, this is _perfect_.”

Finn kind of forgets what he’s doing and says, “Oh, hey Syd,” then he looks at the cheerleader again, whose legs are still wrapped around his waist, and says, “Uh… this is… somebody whose name isn’t Brittany. I don’t remember, really, ’cause of how I’m _reeeeaaaally_ fucking drunk right now.”

“Hi, Not-Brittany. Scram.”

The cheerleader looks from Finn to Syd and back to Finn. “Well?” she says, like she’s expecting Finn to do something, but whatever, what’s he supposed to do? The lady said scram, right? He shrugs and she unwraps her legs, hikes her panties back up, and stomps out of the bathroom, yelling something back over her shoulder at him that he doesn’t hear or really give a crap about.

“Hey, Syd. Oh, can you, like, turn around?”

“You don’t have anything I’m interested in,” Syd snorts. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, either.”

Finn rolls his eyes and turns his back to Syd anyway, peeling the condom off and tossing it into the trashcan before turning to wash his hands, very slowly and carefully, with the world’s most pitiful-looking bar of soap. He washes his hands for a long time.

“Okay, Finn,” she says, her voice a little more gentle, or as gentle as Syd gets, anyway. “Let’s go. Time for some coffee.”

“No coffee,” Finn says. “More tequila. I think we’ll have to find a new cheerleader, though.”

“Definitely no more tequila, Hudson. No more cheerleaders, either. C’mon.” She drags her arm around Finn’s and tugs him from the bathroom and towards the exit.

“You can be my stand-in cheerleader. I’ll do shots off of you. What’s it fucking matter anyway?”

“Yeah, we’re definitely blowing this joint. You want to go to your room, or—”

“No. Not my room. No.”

“Okay. My room?”

“Nobody’s room. I’m going to crawl under a bush and die, how’s that for an option,” Finn mumbles, stumbling a little on the walkway outside of Pike house and almost pulling Syd onto the ground. “Hey, Syd. Did you know the condom bowl in that bathroom said ‘fuck responsibly’? How’s that for a fucking joke?”

“Lovely,” Syd says dryly. “Very lovely. You want to talk to me, Finn?”

“Talk about what? Talking is dumb. I’d like to drink more. Or die. Or both, preferably in that order. Drink myself to death.”

“I think,” Syd says very slowly, “that a lot of people would miss you. Don’t you?”

“Oh, _god_ , Syd,” Finn says, sitting down on the ground. “What am I gonna do?”

Syd sinks down beside him, shaking her head. “I don’t know, Finn. I really don’t. That— it’s shitty.”

“You read it.” It’s not a question at all.

“It made a few things fall into place.”

“I thought, maybe, at first, Karofsky, you know? Then I read that comment. Then I _knew_.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Finn says, and he hears a sound come out of his mouth that could be a small sob or an hysterical laugh, and he can’t even tell which it is.

“I don’t— I don’t think most people will realize,” she offers softly. “Seems like most people do think it’s your friend. Or someone in Utah?” She shrugs.

“Someone knows, Syd. Someone has to. They—” Finn starts, and then holds up a hand while he resists the urge to puke on his own feet. “The details. The comment. It’s not a guess. Somebody knows.”

“Comment?” Syd asks.

“The twofer one, the one on Perez.”

“Oh.” Syd sighs. “Yeah, okay. Someone knows.”

“Fuck,” Finn says, simply.

“Someone… in your building?” Syd guesses. “Not a hotel?”

Finn nods his head slowly. “Yeah. My building.”

“Okay.” Syd nods. “Okay,” she repeats.

“I think I need to puke some more,” Finn says. “Yeah, I definitely need to puke some more.” He hauls himself off the ground, barely, and makes it behind a bush before he pukes and pukes. It tastes like tequila, so he pukes some more, because that’s just really, really awful. Eventually, stuff stops coming out, so he dry heaves behind the bush for a little while, then spits on the ground a few times to get the taste out of his mouth.

“Don’t ever puke tequila,” he says, wobbling back over to Syd. “Really bad plan.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Syd replies. “Let’s go get you a bottle of water.”

“Yeah, that would be good.”

Syd gets to her feet and propels him down the sidewalk, towards the student center. Finn mostly stays on the sidewalk and he resists the urge to try dry-heaving behind a bench and into a trashcan. Syd marches in and buys a bottle of water from the first vending machine, opening it before passing it to Finn. “Drink all of it, I’m getting you another one.”

Finn slams back the bottle of water in three or four long gulps and then stares at the empty bottle. Something feels weirdly familiar. Syd hands him a second open bottle, holding her hand out for the first, but he just keeps staring at the empty bottle, sure that it means _something_.

“Finn?” Syd says quietly.

“Take it out of my hand,” Finn says. “Just take it out of my hand, please, Syd.”

“Okay.” She nods and takes the bottle, tossing it in the nearby recycling canister. “Drink the other one.”

“Yeah, ok,” he says, tipping up the bottle and drinking until it’s empty. This time, he tosses the bottle into the recycling canister himself.

 

Noah’s still sitting on the futon with Kurt curled up next to him when there’s a knock on the door. He’s not really sure what time it is; they’ve been sitting there for hours, quietly talking. “I’ll get it, K.”

“Okay.”

Noah walks over to the door, glances through the peephole, and unlocks it. “Zachary.” He nods and steps back so Zachary can walk in.

“I have pizza,” Zachary says, solemnly. “I resisted the urge to eat any on the way here, despite the strong desire to.”

“Is it time to eat dinner already?” Kurt asks. “Wow.”

“Time is a fickle mistress. Also, eat this pizza, you look terrible.”

“I do not!” Kurt protests, then looks at Noah. “Do I?’’

“You look good to me.” Noah shrugs.

“See?”

“The problem, sir, is that he always thinks you look good,” Zachary notes. “Or at least always says you look good.”

“He does!” Noah protests.

“Hmph.” Kurt shoots a glare at Zachary as he stands up. “I’ll eat your pizza anyway. Are the girls frantic?”

“Insane, desperate for information—which, by the way, I did _not_ give them—and willing to pay for this pizza provided I hand deliver it and check in on you,” Zachary says.

“We don’t really know anything,” Kurt says, sounding sad.

“Syd’s with him.” Noah shrugs. “That’s all. Which, good. Syd’s solid.”

“Who’s Syd? Is he another football player?”

Kurt laughs, and Noah grins at the sound. “Syd’s his friend from… the QSA,” Kurt explains. “She’s a little bit of a walking stereotype. Lives in the ‘green house’, short hair, drives a Volt— you get the idea.”

“Not at all. Never met a walking stereotype before. Must be fascinating.”

Noah rolls his eyes and sees Kurt do the same. “Shut up,” he grumbles at Zachary. “Anyway. Syd’ll take care of him.” He chews on his bottom lip and sits back down, slice of pizza in hand.

“So what _happened_?” Zachary asks. “I mean, I’ve met Finn, I would never have connected him to that blind item.”

Noah exchanges a look with Kurt. “Um. Well. We, uh.”

“It’s—” Kurt bites at his own lip. “It must’ve been someone in his dorm. At first I thought it was David, but.”

“David’s the other— the gay football player, I mean?”

“Yeah. He’s at Georgia Tech,” Noah expands. “But I don’t think—”

“He’s more out than the blind item would indicate,” Kurt finishes. “Plus, well. The timing of it. God, it was posted _last night_.”

“What happened last night?”

“Nothing last night. It’s just— very quick.”

“Very quick since _what_? There’s something going on here that you know about that makes you sure it’s Finn. Did you see something when you were there for the game?” Zachary looks at them both suspiciously while helping himself to a slice of pizza.

“Oh god.” Kurt sighs. “Did you read any of the comments on Perez?”

“Some of them. Catty bitches, mostly, why?”

“There’s one, um.” Noah smiles tightly and squeezes Kurt’s hand. “About a twofer?”

“A… okay, I think I’m more stoned than I realized,” Zachary says, shaking his head. “A twofer? And this applies how? Because what my brain is supplying here doesn’t make any sense.”

“Um.” Kurt says weakly. “What is your brain supplying?”

Zachary squints at Kurt, then his eyes widen, then he squints again and tilts his head to the side, studying Kurt. “Hmm. I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down.”

“It’s just.” Kurt sighs and looks at Noah, who wraps an arm back around him.

“We, uh. Take care of each other.” Noah shrugs.

“Uh… huh.” The look on Zachary’s face is dubious at best. “Well, then.”

"It's— complicated may be the best word," Kurt says with a little shrug. "When we're all together, we're. Together."

“Together when you’re together. Okay. And Finn’s deal is…?”

“He doesn’t— it’s not something he’s ready to think about.” Noah sighs. “He just doesn’t identify. Doesn’t really talk about it.”

“But somebody found out about it, somehow,” Zachary says. “Because… you guys were there this weekend.”

“Yes.” Kurt looks absolutely devastated, and Noah can’t help but glare at Zachary for a moment as he pulls Kurt against his chest with both arms.

“And then posted it on Perez.” Noah closes his eyes. “I hate that fucking website.”

“But, people don’t know, right? About… this whatever-it-is. So maybe they’ll all go on thinking it’s your friend in Alabama or wherever he is. You said he’s kind of out.”

“It’s awful, but I hope so,” Kurt says quietly. “I really hope they do.”

Zachary nods. “For Finn’s sake, and since I never met this other guy, I do, too.”

 

“I don’t have words for this,” Finn says, sprawling across Syd’s giant papasan chair thing. “I need a song, Syd. Sing me a song.”

“ _Life’s not a song, life isn’t bliss. Life’s just this. It’s living. You’ll get along. The pain that you feel only can heal by living_ ,” Syd sings softly.

“Kurt says glee club ruined us for being able to communicate through any other means but song, or however he says it. Something like that. Singing all the answers. Singing all the fucking _questions_ , Syd.”

“Hmm.” Syd looks thoughtful. “Okay. I can buy that.”

“I can’t think of a song for this,” Finn says, flopping over in the chair.

“I think I heard one once.” Syd smiles sadly.

“Then you should sing it. I have no clue.”

“Not today.” Syd shakes her head. “You’re not ready to hear it today.”

“Well, that’s not helpful, thanks.”

“Sorry. I’m trying to look out for you, you know.” Syd sighs. “I called Jamie and told him you were sick. He told your coaches.”

“I know you are. I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault but mine,” Finn says.

“Yours?” Syd raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, I was thinking it was some snitch in your building plus that rodent himself.”

“Yeah, but I’m the reason there’s something to snitch on, Syd. It’s not… this isn’t _new_. Shouldn’t I have it all, like, figured out?”

Syd shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re still only nineteen. How—” She stops herself, looking closely at Finn.

“How?”

“It’s none of my business.” Syd shifts a little. “Just. You’ve never— you’ve always talked about them the same way.”

Finn shrugs. “Yeah. I don’t know how else to talk about them.”

“So. Before you came here?”

Finn chews on his bottom lip, something he doesn’t usually do, but it seems like the thing at the moment. “Hmm. Yeah. For a while.”

Syd nods. “And. Since then?”

“For more than a while.”

“Do— do you talk about it? With them, I mean?”

Finn wants to say that of course they talk about it, but before he can even say it, he realizes, no, they really don’t. Haven’t ever really discussed how it’s supposed to work long-term, other than their package deal thing, which Finn still isn’t sure how he fits into in the long run. “We talk a little. Not much. Not about big picture stuff.”

“Is it boys, or is it _them_?”

Finn finds himself staring at a spot on the opposite wall, directly above Syd’s shoulder. He stares at it really hard. It’s shaped kind of like a bird. Oh, that is an interesting spot over there, he really ought to keep looking at that spot. Syd snaps her fingers once after a moment and Finn jumps, his eyes sliding back to Syd’s face.

“It’s. Oh, fuck, Syd,” Finn sighs. “ _Them_. Themthemthemthem.”

“Okay.” Syd walks over to the window and looks out of it for a moment. “Do you want to stop?”

Finn’s voice sounds very small to himself when he says, “No.”

“Okay. I think maybe. Not here?” She offers him a sad smile. “I know that sucks.”

Finn shrugs. “I don’t know what they want. They might… not. Now.”

“It’s possible,” Syd answers slowly. “But since you haven’t talked to them— have you?”

“No. I ran, then I puked. Then I drank tequila, fucked a cheerleader on a sink, puked some more, and came here. Oh, and drank some water.”

“Right.” Syd chews on the side of her lip. “I think you should call them.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Finn says. “What do I say to them? We don’t talk about this part of it.”

“First, you tell them you’re okay.” Syd holds his gaze for a minute. “Don’t you think they might be worried?”

“I don’t know that they even know.”

“They do.”

“Then I guess, maybe, they might be worried?”

“Exactly. Do you want me to stay with you?”

“No. No, I should just. I should talk to them. I should go back to my place and talk to them, I think,” Finn says.

“Okay. Call me. If you need to. I told Jamie it was a stomach bug.”

“Thanks, Syd. Really. Thank you.”

“No big. Hang in there, Finn.”

 

If it weren’t for the awful circumstances, Kurt would be happy to spend most of his Mondays like this, curled up against Noah and laughing at Zachary’s attempts to juggle and his ridiculous unfinished stories. As it is, there’s a pit of worry in his stomach, a feeling he hasn’t had in years now, and he’d halfway hoped he’d left it behind like so many other things.

Zachary’s launching into another story when Kurt’s phone starts to shake and, a split-second later, ‘Jump Around’ blares out. “Ohh,” Kurt breathes out, snatching up the phone and squeezing Noah’s hand with his other hand. He answers the call and hits speaker automatically.

“Finn?”

“Hey,” Finn says, softly. Kurt can hear the door click as Zachary lets himself out.

“Hi,” Noah answers him. “Syd take care of you?”

There’s a quiet huff of laughter, followed by a little sniffle. “She pulled me off a cheerleader. In exchange, I didn’t puke on her shoes.”

“Girls tend to dislike that,” Kurt responds, wincing before smiling slightly. “I’m so sorry, Finn.”

“ _You_ didn’t do anything,” Finn says. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”

“Yes, well.”

“I’ve been telling him that most of the day. Seriously. Are you— well. Not okay, but.”

“No. Not really, no. But I’m sorry. If I’d thought about it, I’d have called and let you know, it’s not your fault, don’t be upset, ok?”

“How could we not be?” Kurt points out. “Finn.” He sighs and bites his lip. “I think— I think people will think it’s David. Or some poor idiot at Utah.”

“Yeah. Some of the guys on the team thought it was Karofsky. And, fuck, Kurt. I didn’t tell them it wasn’t. I just let them think that, I didn’t say a word.” Finn’s voice cracks at the end.

“Okay,” Kurt says calmly, more calmly than he really feels. “That’s okay.”

“It really is.” Noah nods, even though Finn can’t see them. “You don’t owe anyone anything.”

“What about not chopping down closets?”

“Talk to that fucker Perez about that,” Noah answers. He pauses, and Kurt can see the indecision on Noah’s face, because the answer is that no one cared about _Finn’s_ , but today isn’t the day, probably, to point out that Finn even has a closet.

“I really freaked out today,” Finn says.

“That’s kinda understandable.”

“It was— I had a dumb day.”

“Everybody does sometimes,” Kurt says gently. “Right?”

“I drank tequila. At noon.”

Noah chuckles. “The problem might just be the tequila and less about the time.”

“Then I did body shots off a cheerleader.”

“The same one?” Kurt can’t help but ask.

“Yeah, the one from the bathroom sink. Oh, I didn’t tell you that part, huh?”

“No, we missed that exciting detail.” Kurt winces again, and Noah squeezes his hand, his lips twitching.

“Yeah, well. I don’t think she’s gonna be calling,” Finn says.

“That’s a real shame,” Noah comments.

“I’m sorry, you guys. I’m really sorry.” There’s a little quiet sniffling.

“Why are you sorry?” Kurt asks. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He looks at Noah, who nods. “Finn. We love you. Okay?”

“I love you,” Finn says back, his voice a little rough. “So much. I’m just sorry that—”

“What?” Noah asks.

“That there’s a reason they could print that. That— that there’s a reason why I wish it were Karofsky.”

Kurt feels the words a bit like a punch to the gut, and he squeezes Noah’s hand hard. “Um.” Noah pauses. “Can you— clarify that a little, Finn?”

“I’m sorry that I’ve let you be something that some guy on a website thinks I’m ashamed of,” Finn says. “I’m so sorry for that.”

“Just because something’s a secret doesn’t have to mean you’re ashamed of it,” Kurt says softly. “We know that.”

“I’m ashamed of _me_ sometimes, Kurt. I don’t even know why. But not you two. Not ever.”

“I wish we could make that story disappear for you.”

“You did something,” Noah points out.

“What’d Kurt do? What’d you do, Kurt?”

“Um. The guy in Utah?”

“You?” Finn makes a little noise, almost like a laugh. “Poor guy in Utah.”

“It was really pure luck I picked a school actually in the top 25.” Kurt shrugs a little. “The fact that apparently there’s at least one plausible candidate— I think the odds are probably astronomical.”

“Thanks, bossofme,” Finn says. “Always looking out for me.”

“I think— if you need to, I think Karofsky would understand. Utah’s probably better, but.” Noah shrugs.

“I’m not gonna do that to Karofsky. He’s got his own shit. I’m not gonna be the one with the shovel, tossing it his way,” Finn says. “I guess… I guess that if they figure it out, they figure it out.”

“Don’t turn your phone off tomorrow, okay?”

“Ok. I won’t. Hey, Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“Did you talk to Syd about a song or something?”

“No,” Kurt answers slowly. “What kind of— ohh.”

“What? That’s an _ohh_. I heard that _ohh_. What?”

“When did she mention it, Finn?”

“Today, when we were at her dorm, before I came back here and called you,” Finn says. “I told her that thing you said about singing being how we all have to communicate now, because glee club ruined us, and I told her I needed a song for this one. She said she had one, but then she got all shifty and wouldn’t sing it, so I dunno. I thought maybe you’d said something to her, or something.”

“No, but I think I know what song she was talking about.” Kurt smiles a little and bumps Noah’s shoulder. He starts to sing softly. “ _The endless twists and turns that I navigate, The subtext, who suspects, never knowing what’s next_.”

“Oh,” Finn breathes. “Oh.”

“Get some sleep,” Noah says quietly. “Okay?”

“Ok,” Finn says. “Yeah. I should do that.”

“Good night, Finn.”

“Night, Finn.”

“Love you guys.”

“Love you too,” they say together, and Kurt slowly ends the call, dropping his phone beside him and burying his face against Noah’s neck.

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”


	3. Goldenboy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This year was supposed to be Bryson Tyche's year. [21–22 September 2013]

This year was supposed to be Bryson Tyche’s year, then Goldenboy Hudson showed up and now there’s not gonna be any getting off third string, short of injury or a big enough scandal. Hudson didn’t get redshirted his freshman year, got to start six games when Jensen’s appendix ruptured, and Bryson’s still stuck on third string. Hudson, who everybody likes, ain’t he such a great guy, such a special damn leader, and he’s just a fucking sophomore and already the starting QB. Hudson and his posterboy for tolerance routine, his straight-but-not-narrow act. Goldenboy Hudson, like some kind of too good to be true myth of the All American boy.

Load of bullshit.

Goldenboy Hudson is the campus’s sweetheart. WSUM likes to interview him after games; the UW Madison Residential Television Network loves to play montages of Hudson and the rest of the first stringers with the fight song in the background; the Badger Herald ran a profile of him at the start of the season. Not in a fraternity “but sometimes I like to go to parties”; he sings with the Wisconsin Singers “because glee club was one of the best parts of high school for me”; he goes to QSA meetings and “one of my best friends here, I met there”; he misses his family, “especially my brothers”. Bryson never hears about Goldenboy Hudson having GPA issues, either, even though _he_ isn’t in the School of Human Ecology like 75% of the team. There’s nothing wrong with a major in Community and Nonprofit Leadership, no matter the looks on the faces of Goldenboy Hudson’s roommates. 

The worst part about Goldenboy Hudson, though, is that he’s so goddamn humble. Bryson thinks it’s gotta be the best con any guy’s ever played, because he’s always looking awestruck at the accolades. He’s actually seen the guy _pinch_ himself. Like he’s living some kind of dream, and the worst part of it is? Hudson is. He’s living _Bryson’s_ dream.

The game against Oregon State comes and goes without Bryson on the field. They win by thirty-five points, and Coach Meredith still doesn’t give him any playing time. “It’s early in the season,” Bryson hears Coach saying to Coach Clyde, the offensive coordinator. “Oregon State’s not heavy on sacking. Better to let Hudson really stretch his arm out.” Clyde agrees with Meredith, and that’s that: Goldenboy plays the whole damn game. 

Bryson slumps onto the bench in front of his locker and shakes his head. He doesn’t need a damn shower. He didn’t even work up a sweat! Goldenboy sweeps into the room with his roommates, all smiling like they’ve found the golden ticket and it’s them, congratulating everybody individually on their plays like they were the ones sitting on the sidelines watching the whole thing instead of being out in the middle of it. Goldenboy Hudson’s meticulously polite; he doesn’t slap anyone’s butts. He shakes hands with the linebackers, thanking them for keeping him off his ass, just like he does after every fucking game. He even thanks the third stringers, saying he knows they were ready to step in at a moment’s notice and rise to the occasion. He’s like a goddamn dictator, only the nice kind, like some kind of king that has his subjects’ best interests at heart. 

“4–0 is great, but 5–0’s gonna be better, so enjoy your twenty-four hours and then we’re focusing on next week’s game, guys!” 

“What’re you doing with your twenty-four hours, QB?” one of the defensive linemen calls back.

“My brothers are in town, man! Hanging out with them tonight!”

Goldenboy’s legendary gay brothers who are going to be famous someday—just wait and see!—who live in New York City. Bryson’s asked a few of the other guys, and most of them aren’t sure which of them is even Hudson’s brother, because it’s not like either of them looks a thing like Hudson. Hudson’s always talking about his brothers, it seems like; they sing and act and play music and who knows what else gays do in New York City. Not that Bryson’s ever met them; third-stringers don’t meet the perfect brothers. Hudson’s roommates obviously have.

Goldenboy Hudson doesn’t even shower; he just tosses on a pair of sweatpants and a practice T-shirt and waves to the room, smiling like he just won the fucking lottery. 

“May not see you later, Jamie. Long game and I might call it an early night,” Goldenboy tells Robins, as he’s waltzing out of there like the goddamn Prince of Persia. 

“Yeah, The Doug and I are headed to ZBT with Levi for a party after,” Robins says, and Goldenboy is all, “L’chaim,” because of course he’s so charming and tolerant. 

Goldenboy leaves then, and Bryson tries to figure out if he’s going to go to a party himself. Bryson heads to the closest fraternity and accepts a beer, but the girls on the couch next to him don’t seem to care that he’s on the football team. Well, they care: they ask if he knows Goldenboy and Robins and a few other first-stringers, and does he know what party they’ll be at that night?

Bryson rolls his eyes and chugs the rest of his second beer before standing up and heading back to his dorm, because this sucks. He takes the stairs because the fucking elevator doors _just_ closed, and when he passes Goldenboy’s floor, he stops and stares through the little window in the stairwell door. 

There’s Goldenboy, alright, and he’s with two guys, but they sure as hell don’t look like any kind of brothers. They’ve got their hands clasped behind Goldenboy, resting them on the small of his back, and it looks very cozy. Goldenboy has his arms draped across their shoulders, kind of pulling them against him, and he’s leaning his face way too close to say something into the curly-headed one’s ear. They all look freshly showered, hair still damp, and as the elevator doors slide open, Goldenboy Hudson looks up and down the hall, then drags the two of them into the elevator with him. 

Huh. That’s an interesting version of ‘hanging out’ with his ‘brothers’. Bryson heads the rest of the way up the stairs with a frown on his face. Well, maybe that’s just how gay brothers from New York City do things. Pretty weird to him. 

 

Bryson sleeps in on Sundays, no matter what, because it’s the only fucking day of the week that he even can. Workout on Sunday is on your own time, and Bryson’s not like Goldenboy, getting his workout in before lunch and then going off to his study groups and singing rehearsals and shit. Goldenboy’s always talking about a good work ethic and how they all have a fucking obligation to the school and the fans and the alumni and god knows who else. Goldenboy probably keeps a fucking file on who waits until after dinner on Sunday to go lift and do their run, but Bryson’s proud to be in that file. 

So Bryson decides to head out to the student center for some lunch, and when he passes Goldenboy’s floor, he can’t help but look through the little window again. Goldenboy’s got an arm around each of his ‘brothers’ again, only this time, Goldenboy has his tongue down the pretty-faced one’s throat, and the curly-haired one’s nibbling at Goldenboy’s neck, which Goldenboy seems to be enjoying. 

While he’s watching, the elevator chimes, and Goldenboy and his two whatevers-they-are—  
because they sure don’t look like ‘brothers’ to Bryson—pull their mouths off of each other. Their arms seem to involuntarily go back to how they were the night before, and then they slowly drop, though Hudson keeps his arms draped across their shoulders like he doesn’t even care who sees them. Maybe he thinks he’s so invincible that he _doesn’t_ care.

Bryson doesn’t move for a few minutes; he doesn’t really want to see their big gay lovefest in the lobby, no matter what all those training sessions say about tolerance and bullshit. Bryson knows Goldenboy's big dirty secret; all that gold is just gilding. Goldenboy Hudson’s not straight-but-not-narrow; he’s on the down-low.


	4. FaceTime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some poor boy is out there all paranoid and scared because of people’s need for gossip. [24 September 2013]

On Tuesday, Finn gets up and goes about his shit like normal, head held high _like a boss_. There’s nothing else to do about it. He has to go to classes. He can’t hide in his room like some kind of badger in a closet, which, now that he thinks about it, isn’t actually a real figure of speech, but should be. 

Maybe he’s just paranoid—well, yeah, he knows he’s probably pretty fucking paranoid right about now—but he feels like people keep looking at him. Weird looks, confused looks, Finn’s not entirely sure. He just feels eyes on him as he trudges across campus to his child psych class, which happens to be his favorite class currently, and he doesn’t want to wreck it by letting people freak him out.

He’s already freaked out enough all on his own.

After class, Finn goes to the student center to snag some lunch and meet with Syd. She drops into the seat beside him, putting her water bottle onto the table in front of her, along with her salad. Finn takes a big bite of his chicken sandwich and chews methodically, staving off conversation as long as possible. Maybe he could just keep chewing indefinitely, and Syd’ll just eat her salad in silence, and Finn can walk back across campus _like a boss_ and lock himself in his dorm room until this shit storm blows over. 

“Good sandwich?” Syd asks.

Finn nods his head, still chewing his same bite. 

“Did you source that chicken?” Syd continues, raising one eyebrow.

Finn finally surrenders to the inevitable and swallows his bite. “Uh, it came from… there,” he says, pointing at the food counter. 

“I’ll take that as a no, then.” Syd looks amused. “Anything I need to know?”

“Talked to them. Everybody’s all freaked out and worked up.”

“Worried, you mean?”

“Well, Puck has an anxiety disorder thing, so,” Finn says, shrugging. “I mean, worried’s just sorta how he is.”

“Oh.” Syd shrugs. “Okay, then.”

“I mean, he’s mostly ok now, but sometimes stuff still sets him off. I almost feel worse about him than I do about any of this. I’m worried he’s gonna make himself sick or something like that.” Finn takes another large bite of his sandwich and chews it even more slowly than the first bite. 

“I’m sure Kurt will take care of him,” Syd says. 

“Yeah, they take care of… each other,” Finn says. 

“Anything I need to know about in this time zone?”

“Well, either I’m paranoid or the rumor is getting around. Or both. Some combination.”

Syd nods. “Okay.”

“I’m just trying to get through my day until this blows over,” Finn says. “I mean, it’s gotta blow over soon.”

“Right.” Syd stares at him for a minute. “When are you gonna give in and carry around that nice Bucky water bottle instead of killing oil barrels?”

“Some time, probably. Maybe. I should make myself a note. I’ll put it in my phone later,” Finn says. 

Syd shakes her head. “My time here will have been a success if I only get you to use reusable water bottles before I graduate.”

“I have one of those bag things you gave me. I use it. Sometimes.”

“Well, I guess that’s something.” Syd stabs the last bite of her salad. “You got class?”

“One more class, then practice after, which yeah, that’s gonna be a whole world of the best kind of fun,” Finn says. “Especially since whoever sent that thing in is probably gonna be there. Maybe I can find him by his smirk. Then I can put my fist in his smirk.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Syd shrugs. “Normally I’m not one for violence, but I can sort of understand that.”

“I’m sometimes one for violence. Heh. Always about _this_ issue, weirdly enough,” Finn says. 

“Well, people don’t get it, a lot of times.” 

“So, Kurt made up Utah.”

“What?” Syd looks confused.

“The Utah rumor, that it’s a guy out at Utah. That was Kurt. Kurt made it up and now people are starting to believe it,” Finn explains. “I feel bad for whoever in Utah’s getting this pinned on them, but, you know.”

Syd looks like she’s fighting back laughter before she finally starts chuckling. “Oh, that’s priceless. I love it.”

“Yeah, well. That’s Kurt.”

“Don’t you have a bye week soon?”

“Yeah, in two weeks.”

“Go to New York.”

“Oh, Syd,” Finn says. “Syd, I don’t know. I can’t just show up out there like that.”

Syd snorts. “Somehow I think you can. And I think you need to go somewhere bigger than Madison for a few days.”

“Yeah, and when you need to go someplace bigger, well, New York,” Finn says. “That’s why Puck and Kurt went there to begin with. I don’t want to dump the same kind of drama on them. Or some kind of drama. I don’t even know what this drama is. Stupid drama.”

“Finn, I think they’re already involved, don’t you?” Syd looks like she’s considering rolling her eyes. “Just think about it, anyway, yeah? Talk to them.”

“They’ve got a life out there, Syd. I can’t just go out there and, they have other things they have to worry about, and… at least right now they’re almost a thousand miles away. That’s safer for them.” Finn abandons his sandwich and pushes the paper wrapper away from him a little. 

“Let them decide, is all I’m saying.” Syd sighs and stands up. “I have to get to class. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Ok. Yeah, you’re probably right,” Finn says. “Ok, go to class. I’ll go to class. Text me if you want to do lunch tomorrow or if you want to just come over and punch me in the face for a while. I might need it.”

“I’ll help you punch the douchebag, if you find him. Deal?”

“Deal.”

 

Finn’s phone reminds him at 7:28 that it’s almost time to FaceTime with his mom and Burt and Audrey, and really, the point is to talk to Audrey, so he checks in with his mom and Burt too. He pulls out his iPad and tries to put on his most normal expression as he initiates the call. 

“Hi, sweetie!” Carole says as soon as the connection is established, holding Audrey in her lap. “How are you?”

“Yeah, I’m _great_!” Finn says. “Hey, Aud! Hi! Howya doin’!”

Audrey grins at him and waves her little hand, chewing on some toy that Finn doesn’t recognize. It must be new, because he thinks he knows all of her toys. She likes to show them to the screen when he calls. 

“Whatcha got there, Aud? Is that new?”

“Rina and Hannah brought it for her,” Carole answers. “I think it must be very tasty.” 

Burt sits down next to Carole. “Hey, Finn. How was practice today?”

“Yeah, it was _great_! Really great practice today.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Finn?” Carole asks. “Do you have the heat turned up too high again?”

“That’s probably it. I’ll turn it down where we’re done. I’ll drink some water, too. Syd’s been after me about the water bottle thing again,” Finn says. 

Audrey squeals at the word ‘water’ and Carole laughs, handing her a sippy cup. “Water’s her favorite thing, lately.”

“Yeah, well, water’s exciting. Isn’t that right, Aud? Water’s awesome, huh?” Finn says, waving his fingers at Audrey. 

“Kek! Kek!” 

“Aw, hey, is she saying cake? That’s awesome! Good job, Aud!”

“Yeah, she’s been saying that since after she talked to you boys on Sunday. People kept giving her a bite of cake every time she said it, now she thinks she’s gonna get cake on command,” Burt snorts. “Sad news for her, we’re out of cake.”

“Kek!”

“Too bad, Aud! No more cake!” Finn makes a comically sad face at Audrey, and Carole laughs at him. 

“Is your brother silly?” Carole says to Audrey. “I think he is!”

“That’s me, a silly brother,” Finn says. 

“Well, she has three silly brothers,” Carole points out with a laugh. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Three silly brothers, huh, Aud?” Finn asks, with a forced laugh. 

Audrey laughs when she hears Finn’s laugh, then rubs at her eyes. “Kek?”

“No more cake, little one,” Carole says gently. “Finn, sweetie, I’m going to go lay her down and then I’ll be back.”

“Ok. Bye, Audie-Aud, see you later! Love you!”

As Carole carries Audrey upstairs, Burt moves more towards the center of the screen. “So, we’ll be seeing you this weekend after the game with OSU,” Burt says.

“That’s the plan, anyway,” Finn says. “Provided I don’t get creamed on the field or something.”

“You worried about the game?” 

“Not really the game. The climate, maybe.”

“Yeah. Some interesting stuff going on in college football right now,” Burt says, frowning. 

Finn feels his face freeze momentarily, before he can make himself answer. “Yeah. That’s a word for it.”

“I talked to Paul Karofsky yesterday. He’s none too pleased with some stuff coming across one of those gossip websites that Kurt hates so much.”

“Yeah?” Finn asks. “What, uh. What stuff?”

“You didn’t hear about that? It’s been all over the place, some whatchacallit, one of those anonymous things, about some top–25 starter. Paul says David’s pretty sure they’re talking about him,” Burt says. “I swear, the way these people get into everyone else’s business. What does it matter to them what that boy’s doing in his private life, as long as he plays a good game?”

“Yeah. I heard maybe, uh, a guy from Utah. I don’t think it’s Karofsky.”

“Did you talk to David? He upset about this?”

“Yeah. We worked out it probably wasn’t him. He seemed fine, though,” Finn says, shrugging. “I mean, I guess it wouldn’t have been horrible, if it were him. Everybody on his team knows. His friends all know. It wouldn’t be so horrible or anything if everybody already knows, maybe.”

“I think it’s pretty awful no matter what,” Burt replies, scowling. “I’m glad David’s doing okay with it, at least. Utah, huh?”

“That’s what people are saying,” Finn says. “I don’t know. Nobody’s naming any specific name in Utah.”

Carole comes back and sits down with a small smile. “Oh, are you talking about that awful website?” She shakes her head. “Some poor boy is out there all paranoid and scared because of people’s need for gossip.”

Finn can feel all the blood draining out of his face. “Yeah. That, uh, that must be really awful. Just. Really awful.”

“Those kind of sites ought to be banned, and the people that send in those items should be ashamed of themselves!”

Nobody looked ashamed of themselves at practice that afternoon. Mostly everybody looked the same as always, plus some additional weird looks in Finn’s direction. He couldn’t even begin to make any kind of guess as to who might have seen something, who might have said something, _what_ they even saw that made them so sure they were right. 

“Yeah, I don’t know if they’re ashamed or not, mom,” Finn says. “Somebody probably oughta be.”


	5. Rachel Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel can't just leave it alone. [24 September 2013]

Kurt sinks into the last seat on the bus with a grateful sigh, and pulls out his phone almost absently. No new texts, no new emails, Noah’s still holed up with Tcimpidis for another thirty minutes, and everything is quiet for what feels like the first time in days. Part of him wishes he could go back five days and fix everything, but he’s not sure how that would be possible without breaking something else. 

The bus isn’t quite to Madison Avenue when Kurt’s phone shakes and then ‘Si, mi chiamano Mimi’ starts to play. Kurt sighs heavily—he knew the quiet was too good to last—and answers the phone. “Hello, Rachel.”

“Kurt,” Rachel says, her voice crisp. “I realized it had been over two weeks since I spoke with you last. How’s Noah?”

“Doing well. And you?”

“Wonderfully! I’m enjoying my Musical History Survey class, and we’re in the middle of a round of auditions right now, so it’s been keeping me occupied!”

“Good. Yes, we have auditions in another week for a new show.”

“Well, I hope it all goes smoothly for you,” Rachel says. There’s a brief pause, before she asks, “And how was Wisconsin?”

And there it is. Kurt purses his lips and looks out the window. “Getting cold already. They won, as I’m sure you know.”

“I don’t really follow sports scores, Kurt. You know that.”

“I know that you always seem to know the scores for a few schools, regardless,” Kurt points out, because she does always know Wisconsin, LSU, and usually Georgia Tech, too. Kurt doesn’t feel the need to name them off for her this time, though.

“Sometimes I see things on Facebook, Kurt. I can’t help having a photographic memory,” Rachel insists. “It’s not something I can control.”

“Yes, well. There was much Jumping Around.”

“Oh, good. And Finn was well?”

Kurt chews on his lower lip. “He was in good spirits when we left.”

Rachel makes a little noise, like she’s trying to process Kurt’s answer. “Hm. Well. So, as you know, I don’t really keep up with college sports or sports-related new items, but…”

“But?” Kurt’s damn well going to make her say it, if she’s going to ask and expect an answer.

“I was on Facebook this morning, and I kept noticing that quite a few people were relinking a particular news item,” Rachel says. “I didn’t think too much of it at first, but then I noticed there was an interesting amount of crossover between who was linking it. Of course, some of our former classmates, but then a few of my dads’ friends as well, and they don’t normally spend a lot of time talking about sports, so…”

“There is an item that has gotten a lot of interest. Yes.” Kurt’s voice is flat. 

“And I couldn’t help but wonder, but no, this is silly,” she says, with a little laugh. “It’s probably about David Karofsky, isn’t it? That’s what a lot of people are saying, it’s a football player at Georgia Tech. That’s what most of the people are saying.”

“It does seem like it would fit,” Kurt says carefully. “But there’s also apparently someone in Utah that it could fit. I’m sure it’s caused lots of hurtful speculation on many campuses.”

“I hadn’t heard about Utah,” Rachel says. “Hmm. I suppose you’re right, it really could be anyone. It’s just… but, really, this is very silly. I’m not sure why I’d even give it any mind.”

Kurt swallows and rests his forehead against the glass window. “I hate to indulge your insanity, Rachel, but what precisely are you talking about?”

“Well there’s… there’s a group of people who seems to believe that, and really, Kurt, I know this sounds insane. But they seem to believe that the player in question might be… at UW.”

“I… have heard that.” Kurt squares his jaw. 

“That’s just absurd, though. Right?” Rachel asks. “Kurt? It’s… they’re not… no, that just doesn’t make any sense at all!”

“As I said, I’m sure the item has caused intense speculation and scrutiny on twenty-five different campuses over the last two days.”

“ _Kurt_?” Rachel’s voice isn’t exactly sharp, but it doesn’t denote any acceptance of his statement as the end of the conversation. 

Kurt closes his eyes. There’s no way out of this conversation, no way that everyone can be happy with. “Rachel,” he says wearily. 

“Kurt, are they talking about… was this about Finn?”

Kurt wants to laugh, to say something about why would it possibly be about Finn, but the laugh gets stuck in his throat and the words won’t really form, and after a few moments, he sighs. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“Kurt,” Rachel says softly. “Kurt, _how_?”

“I would assume some idiot thought it would be amusing, and emailed Perez Hilton.”

“Oh, _Kurt_! Is he okay?”

“What do you think?” Kurt snaps. 

“I… I…” Rachel sputters. “I wouldn’t imagine he is.”

“Then you imagine correctly.” Kurt rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. Yesterday was a long day.”

“I’m sorry, Kurt. I don’t suppose it will help anything to tell him I send my support,” Rachel says. “I should make more of an effort to stay in touch with Finn. I’m terribly sorry he’s been caught up in the rumor mill like this, though. I hope it will blow over soon.”

Kurt swallows again. “He’s not going to have an easy time with the increased scrutiny.”

“No, being under that kind of public lens, that’s not something I imagine he would enjoy,” Rachel agrees. 

“The worst part’s not being able to do anything.”

“I’m sure! But, what could you do? This is out of anyone’s hands. You can’t control people’s idle gossip.”

“I don’t know. Nothing. Too much. It… I…” Kurt trails off, because there’s no way to explain that he feels guilty—even though Noah says they shouldn’t, they didn’t do anything wrong, and even though Finn himself says Kurt shouldn’t—without getting into _why_ he feels guilty, and that’s probably not a conversation to be having on a bus. “If I could just stop it from being posted in the first place.”

“I don’t know how you could do that, though,” Rachel says. “Of course, that would be nice.”

“I can’t believe it, but I’m actually quoting Cher in my head. Rachel, this is awful. ‘If I Could Turn Back Time’ isn’t even her best.”

Rachel laughs. “No, it really isn’t. Oh, Kurt, I’m sure you’re just sick for him. I’m so sorry about all of this.”

“Me too, Rachel.” Kurt sighs quietly. “I just hope something more interesting comes along, soon.”

“It always does. Perhaps we could fabricate a scandal about some important media figures?”

“I know you’re still angry about the results on _American Idol_ last season, Rachel, but I don’t think anyone will be swayed by your diatribe against Ryan Seacrest.”

“I still say he rigged the voting in exchange for sexual favors, Kurt. There’s just no other way.”

Kurt laughs, though his whole heart isn’t in it. “Never change, okay, Rachel?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Why be any less fantastic than my current self?”

“Of course.” Kurt stands. “And now I will bid you farewell as I exit my transportation.”

“Goodbye, Kurt. I’ll speak with you soon.”

“Bye, Rachel.” Kurt sighs and shakes his head as he exits the bus. The last thing Finn probably cares about, especially now, is reconnecting with Rachel Berry.


	6. Hudson's 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ritual he observes religiously. [21–22 September 2013]

It’s something he comes up with his freshman year, after the first game he starts, the one he doesn’t expect to play in at all until Jensen, the starting quarterback, gets appendicitis and has to have emergency surgery the morning of the game. They win—barely, but it is a win—and Finn wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life wallowing in this, his first college victory. He wants to replay every minute in his head, talk about it constantly like he did in high school, when a win was enough to carry him through the week.

Only, he isn’t in high school any more, and a nagging voice in the back of his head tells him that maybe that kind of indulgence isn’t right for college, that he might need to grow up and stop letting a football win be the defining feature of his week. In some fit of random and unexpected maturity, Finn decides that he’ll give himself twenty-four hours to revel in self-congratulations, and then he’ll bring his attention back to the task at hand, school work and preparing for the _next_ win. Twenty-four hours to live in the past, to enjoy the moment, and then turn his attention to the future.

That’s what Finn’s been doing after every game since, and now it’s become kind of a thing. By the end of his freshman year, some of the other guys—like Jamie and The Doug—start calling it _Hudson’s Twenty-four Hours_ , the period of time to live it up and party and partake in the generosity of flowing beer kegs before buckling down and cleaning up and starting to get ready for the next game. Come sophomore year, with Finn as starter, Hudson’s Twenty-four Hours are something like a rule for the team. After a win, party hard, party extra hard, but only for twenty-four hours, and then back to work. 

Finn’s not the religious type—high school cured him of that—but Hudson’s Twenty-four Hours are something he _observes_ religiously, at least. Tonight, after their fourth consecutive win of the season, he’s celebrating his twenty-four hours with Kurt and Puck. Twenty-four hours to live in the moment, completely and thoroughly, with _them_. 

Before the game, they’d grinned at him, and Kurt told him not to shower after, and dammit, there’s no reason why that should have made him as hard as it did, but it _did_. Watching them walking off to their seats—well, _Puck_ walks, Kurt kind of swaggers like he does when he knows Finn’s watching him—in their UW sweatshirts, knowing that’s what’s waiting for him after the game, it’s enough to send him into the locker room gritting his teeth and wishing they'd had time for more than a few teasing hello kisses before the game. 

He'll just have to put it all into his playing, because otherwise there's a chance he might just find them in the stands afterwards and… well, he can't do that, it's out of the question, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't give himself a few minutes to indulge the little fantasy of pushing Kurt back against the stands, shoving that too-large UW sweatshirt up, unbuttoning those jeans, and just…

Yeah, he's going to have to put all of that into his playing. Means he has a fucking _fantastic_ game, too. He always gives it his all, but knowing Puck and Kurt are in the stands watching him makes Finn push himself even harder than usual. In the first quarter, third and nine, Finn can’t make a connection so he runs for twelve yards and the first down, then throws a touchdown to Jamie on the next play. In the third quarter, Finn completes a thirty-five yard pass that evades an intercept, and yeah, maybe he does look in the direction of where they’re sitting in the stands, even though he knows they can’t see the smile he’s flashing at them. It feels so good to be out there, doing what he does, with them there to see it. 

It’s really not that hard of a game, and Finn knows that Puck at least can probably recognize that, but Finn knows he played well, and Puck will recognize that, too. Finn has no idea how much Kurt really knows about football, because he always does that thing he does, pretending he doesn’t follow or care about the finer points of the game, that it’s just the win and not the stats that matter. If nothing else, UW wins by thirty-five and there’s over forty points on the board, so that, at least, should make Kurt happy. Kurt likes a big win. 

After the game, Finn makes his round of the locker room, thanking his linemen—Karofsky once mentioned how much he appreciated it when Finn thanked him for keeping him from getting creamed during a game, and Finn took it to heart—and giving everybody props for their work out on the field. When there’s a general turn of heads in his direction, Finn uses what he still thinks of as his ‘leadership qualities’ voice and tells them all, “4–0 is great, but 5–0’s gonna be better, so enjoy your twenty-four hours and then we’re focusing on next week’s game, guys!”

There’s a murmur of agreement from the rest of the guys, then Flórez hollers out, “What’re you doing with your twenty-four hours, QB?” 

Now, that’s one of those questions with two answers: a true one and a right one. The true answer, the one that brings a little color to Finn’s cheeks, is that his current plan is to find his brothers, take them back to his dorm room, and—since the whole stadium fantasy probably isn’t practical—start off the night by pushing Kurt against the door, tugging his pants just barely down his hips, and sucking him off while Puck offers color commentary. Then some variation of that for the next twenty-four hours. 

The _right_ answer, however, is, “My brothers are in town, man! Hanging out with them tonight!”

Finn changes out of his uniform, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, then heads in the direction of the door, and Jamie holds up a fist as Finn passes by him.

“May not see you later, Jamie. Long game and I might call it an early night,” Finn says, bumping Jamie’s fist, because yeah, he’s not planning on leaving his room for anything but food, and come to think of it, Puck _does_ carry snacks around in his bag sometimes.

Jamie says, “Yeah, The Doug and I are headed to ZBT with Levi for a party after.” Sounds like a good time, because ZBT _does_ throw a great party, and maybe Puck would get a kick out of the mostly-Jewish fraternity, but that would be taking time out of Hudson’s Twenty-four Hours, and it’s gonna be a busy twenty-four hours as it is.

“L’chaim, dude,” Finn says, heading out the door. There’s Kurt and Puck waiting right outside the locker room, ridiculous grins on their faces like waiting outside the locker room is some kind of hilarious private joke. Which, Finn has to admit, it might be. He’s got an arm around each of their shoulders before they can so much as say anything, holding them close in a perfectly-acceptable-in-public sort of way. 

“Sorry I’m stinky. You said don’t shower, so.”

“Mmmhmm,” Kurt says, and both Kurt and Puck lean into Finn, maybe not quite so publicly perfectly acceptable, but Finn can’t bring himself to care. Kurt nuzzles against him a little and Finn thinks Kurt might be sniffing him, which ok, maybe a little weird, but also hot. 

“Someone promised us an in-depth tour of a genuine Badgers dorm room. Can you help us with that?” Puck asks. 

“Hmm, well I dunno about in-depth. I could give you a _really_ good tour of parts of it, though,” Finn says, as he starts steering them in the direction of his dorm. 

“Are they the parts we’re interested in?” Puck asks. He and Kurt both have a funny look on their faces, like they’re trying really hard not to do or say something. 

“Guess that depends on what you’re interested in.”

“The parts that don’t require much clothing.”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Finn says, quietly, speeding up his steps and hauling Puck and Kurt along with him. They walk with him silently, letting him set the pace and direct them through campus. They get to the dorm, through the front door, and then Finn almost loses his mind while they wait for the world’s slowest damn elevator. 

The doors finally open and Finn’s in such a hurry to get into it that he almost trips. Kurt giggles, and as the elevator doors close again, Finn finds himself with an armful of both of them, pressing kisses on either side of his lips. He turns his face towards Kurt, opening his mouth to feel Kurt’s tongue sliding along his lips and tongue. Puck kisses Finn along his jawline, nibbles his ear. Both Kurt and Puck have the full length of their bodies pressed along Finn’s sides, he can feel they’re both hard, pushing against his leg, and Finn almost drops to his knees right there in the elevator in front of Kurt before the door opens and they’re on Finn’s floor. 

The dorm is empty; the other players are all out at parties or with their girls somewhere, and most of them won’t be back for hours. Finn doesn’t bother to disentangle himself from Kurt and Puck as they cross through the lobby and down the hallway to his room. 

“How much farther?” Kurt mutters. “God, we need you.”

“Watching you play live— _fuck_ ,” Puck adds, and up to that point, Finn thought he couldn’t get any harder, but what Puck says? Yeah, Finn was totally wrong about that. 

“Like twenty feet. It’s like twenty, no like fifteen feet from here. Ten feet. Two feet.” Finn fumbles the key into the lock with a ridiculous amount of difficulty, but the door finally swings open. 

“Way too long,” Kurt gasps out as they squeeze through. “ _Finn_.”

“Too fucking long. That’s not even ok,” Finn agrees. “You enjoy the game?”

“Enjoyed your _ass_ in those tight pants.”

“Loved knowing you were out there watching me,” Finn says, leaning over to rub his face against Kurt’s neck. “Kept thinking about you in the stands, almost couldn’t walk out onto the field.”

Puck chuckles, still pressed against Finn’s side. “Hell of a reason to call a time-out.”

“What were you thinking, darling?”

“Mmm.” Finn closes his eyes. “Thinking about you. Thinking about getting down on my knees in front of you, right in the middle of the stands, leaning you back.” Finn runs his hand down Kurt’s chest, down his stomach, just grazing against his cock through his jeans. “Thinking about unbuttoning your jeans, pushing up your shirt, right there in front of everybody. Putting my mouth on you.”

Kurt just moans and Puck laughs again, low and a little rough. “So close your eyes and pretend we’re still in the stands, you two,” he suggests. 

“What do you think, Kurt?” Finn mutters into Kurt’s ear. “You think that might be something to hold everybody’s attention? Starting quarterback sucking you off in the middle of the stadium?”

“ _God_.” Kurt’s head falls back, thumping against the wall. “Fuck, yes. Please. Yes, please.” Even though his voice is strained, he still manages to sound like he’s ordering something at a fancy restaurant. 

“Don’t have any stands here. You want a chair, the bed, or can I just push you against my door?”

“Push him against the door,” Puck answers for Kurt.

“You want that, bossofme?” Finn asks. “Like Puck says, against the door?” He starts unfastening Kurt’s jeans. 

Kurt just nods, letting Finn manhandle him. Finn walks him backwards until Kurt’s back is pressed against the door, then he slides his hands down Kurt’s body while dropping down to his knees. Kurt's skin is so silky, Finn can't ever get over how it feels, and he's running his tongue along Kurt's smooth stomach even as he's unzipping Kurt's jeans and pushing them down. Another inch down with the jeans, and Kurt's cock bobs in front of Finn. 

Finn does just what he told Kurt he wanted to do; he pushes that UW shirt up out of the way and runs his tongue over the head of Kurt's cock, tasting him. “You taste good,” Finn murmurs, his lips against the satiny skin of Kurt's cock. “You smell good, you taste good, fuck, Puck, how do you ever get anything done in New York, with him walking around like this all the time?”

Puck laughs, one hand resting on the back of Finn’s head and the other holding himself up off the wall. “Who said we study at home?”

“Well, if you flunk out, come out here. You can flunk me out, too,” Finn says, and he means it, too, at least in the moment. Being distracted to failure by Kurt seems pretty awesome, in fact. Finn curls his hands around Kurt’s hipbones. “Close your eyes and pretend you’re in the middle of the stands.”

Finn closes his eyes, too, because there’s no reason why both of them can’t pretend. Finn takes Kurt into his mouth slowly, feeling the drag of Kurt's skin against his lips as he carefully works his mouth down Kurt's cock. Kurt lets out a quiet moan as Finn runs his tongue up underneath, finally pressing it against the sensitive spot right underneath the head of Kurt's cock. Finn does it again, tonguing Kurt's cock with increasing pressure and he moves his head, pulling away slightly and then forward again, trying to move his mouth even further down Kurt's cock, wanting to feel it nudging the back of his throat.

“Just think,” Puck says, voice low. “Everyone’s watching, trying to figure out why the quarterback just leapt into the stands, watching him take you into his mouth, blue eyes.” Puck’s hand tightens in Finn’s hair and Finn can hear him shift his weight. “Both teams down on the field, taking their helmets off and dropping them to the ground, just watching you.”

“Yes,” Kurt hisses. “Just like that. All of it, yes.” His body ripples, like a wave from top to bottom, and then his hips thrust forward, and it’s _awesome_. That just makes Finn move his head faster, running his tongue up and down the length of Kurt’s cock. Puck’s fingers are gripping Finn’s hair and then he moves his hand, forcing Finn’s head forward onto Kurt. _Oh, fuck yeah._

Finn slides his hands around Kurt’s hips and down, cupping Kurt’s ass in his palms, using it to pull Kurt against him harder. Puck chuckles, keeping the pressure on the back of Finn’s head. “A sea of red, all of them looking at one point in the stands; Finn’s still got his pads on and everything. There’s a murmur, enough to be loud, but you can’t tell what anyone’s saying. You just know they’re all wondering who is that? What are they _doing_?”

Kurt makes that little humming sound he does, the one that means he’s about to come, and Finn can taste it, too, that Kurt’s just moments away. Puck’s hand pushes Finn towards Kurt, then tugs him back a little, and Finn lets his head be moved, curls his tongue around Kurt and presses it upward on each backward movement. Kurt stiffens and lets out a long moan as he comes, hot and salty in Finn’s mouth, and Finn swallows, stroking his hands down Kurt’s ass. 

Finn barely registers that Puck’s jerking off next to him before Puck’s come splatters all over Finn’s shoulder and the side of his face. Finn blinks and pulls his head back, startled. “Shit, sorry,” Puck says, sounding a little out of it. “I, uh. Just sort of forgot. To aim, I guess.”

“I think I have come in my ear.” Because, really, what else is there to say about that?

“Do you?” Kurt says. “Well. We’ll check on that for you.”

“I think it’s in my hair, too.”

Then they’re both beside him, Puck’s tongue darting into his ear and Kurt’s on his cheek, carefully cleaning him off. Finn closes his eyes and enjoys the feel of their tongues on his skin, and yeah, sure, a little weird, but whatever, it’s hot, and Finn really wishes somebody would suggest he take off his clothes right about now. 

Kurt’s the first one to pull away, and Puck does a moment later. “I think we got all of it,” Puck says with a smirk. 

“Hmm. I think. We have a problem.”

“What’s the problem?” Finn says. 

“Clothes.”

“Clothes are a problem,” Finn agrees. 

“Also you haven’t finished that tour. Where _is_ your bed?”

“Yeah, I should probably, like, walk you there. It’s kind of far away,” Finn says, standing up awkwardly, because he’s kind of so hard he’s about to _die_. He takes Puck by one hand and grabs Kurt by the other, and drags them both in the direction of his bed, which is a whole three feet away. Puck grabs Finn’s waistband and hauls his sweatpants down to his ankles, then pushes Finn onto his bed. 

“This your bed?” Puck grins. “Good.” He crawls onto the bed, hovering over Finn for a moment before lowering his mouth to Finn’s cock, starting at the tip and just moving down slowly. 

“Thank-fucking-god,” Finn groans. Before he can say anything else, Kurt’s lips are on top of his, Kurt’s tongue running gently over Finn’s lips, trying to find a place to slip inside. Finn opens his mouth to let Kurt’s tongue in. Kurt kisses him more insistently, and Puck’s tongue is sliding over the tip of Finn’s cock, then down the sides, wrapping around it. Puck’s hand is playing with Finn’s balls, and one of Kurt’s hands is sliding under Finn’s shirt, pinching and pulling at his nipples. 

“Oh, _fuck_ , Puck,” Finn says. “Two months. That sucks so much.”

Puck nods, his head moving up and down on Finn, and Kurt rolls one of Finn’s nipples between his fingers. “It was way too long, darling,” Kurt says. There’s a little pause before Kurt continues. “We missed you. A lot.”

“Mmm. Missed you,” Finn says. “No more two months.” 

“No,” Kurt agrees, and Puck must, too, from the way his hand tightens a little on Finn’s balls, his lips sliding just a little faster. Their hands are all over him, Finn doesn’t know how they can possibly have hands in so many places at once. “I think you should come now,” Kurt says, “let Puck taste you.”

Finn wasn’t even sure he was there yet, but Kurt says come, so Finn comes, hard, yelling “Fuck!” loud enough that anybody on the dorm floor could probably hear him. His head drops back against the bed, and Puck slowly releases him, dropping his head onto Finn’s stomach. 

“Mmm, we should grab him after a workout more often, K.”

“I stink like football,” Finn mumbles. “Sorry.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Kurt shakes his head. “Didn’t we tell you not to shower?”

“Yup. And I didn’t, ’cause, you know. Bossofme.”

“So you are just how we wanted you.” Kurt runs his hand through Finn’s hair. “Well, you still have too many clothes on, but.”

“Yeah, well, you too,” Finn says. “You good with football stink or you wanna all try cramming into the shower?”

“Mmm, let’s cram into the shower, blue eyes.”

“Naked wet boys. I can’t imagine why I’d like that,” Kurt deadpans, trying not to smirk. 

“Only shampoo I’ve got has built-in conditioner. Might be too scary in there for you.”

“Nooahh, you didn’t tell me we were traveling to a less civilized country.”

Puck laughs. “Your conditioner’s in the suitcase, K.”

“Doug and Jamie are at the ZBT thing, so nobody’s gonna be back for a while,” Finn says. 

“Is it true that you never run out of hot water in a dorm?” Kurt asks with a slow grin. 

“Not this dorm, anyway. We’re the football players. They want us happy.”

Kurt stands up and pulls off his shirt. “Let’s test that.”

 

It’s seven, maybe closer to seven-thirty, before they finally all accept that they have to leave Finn’s room for dinner. Finn’s honestly been starving for hours, but it’s not until Kurt says he’s hungry that Finn’s willing to put clothes on again. Kurt puts on three different layers, saying how is it possible to be this cold in September, and Puck just shakes his head, reaching into his bag and pulling out a scarf that he tosses at Kurt. 

Finn puts on one of his UW T-shirts and a zippered hoodie, because it’s really not even that cold yet. “Ian’s? Best pizza in town.”

“Sure,” Puck answers with a shrug. “We should have a pizza-off sometime. New York versus Madison.”

“You haven’t lived until you’ve had BBFAT pizza, dude. Seriously.”

“Be fat?” Puck asks with a grin.

“Nah. BBFAT. It’s black beans and that cheese, you know, the crumbly white kind, and avocado, and tomato. It’s so good, seriously. You’re gonna want that,” Finn says. “They don’t have it all the time, but it’s one of the September pizzas.”

“Feta?” Puck asks. “Hmm. Yeah, that does sound good.”

“They also have this mac ’n’ cheese pizza. Oh my god, so good.” 

“How far is it?”

“Other side of campus. We’ll drive, but it won’t take long. Which, good thing, because I haven’t eaten anything other than a granola bar since, I dunno. A long time,” Finn says. “Kurt’s lucky he said he was hungry, or I might have bitten him.”

“Oh?” Kurt raises an eyebrow as they walk to the door. “Really?”

“Yup. You’re so tasty and I’m so starving.”

“Cannibal Finn,” Kurt sighs, and Puck laughs. Finn shakes his head and they head into the hallway, Finn locking the door behind them. He drapes his arms across their shoulders and steers them to the lobby, where they wait and wait for the world’s slowest elevator. 

Nobody’s around, so Finn nuzzles Puck’s neck. “You… smell like fucking,” Finn murmurs into Puck’s ear. 

Puck grins as the doors open. “Wonder why that is.”

Finn raises his eyebrows at Puck and then drags him and Kurt into the elevator, where they wait out the long, slow ride down by alternating between mouths on lips and necks, and hands on all sorts of places, until the doors finally open on the ground floor. 

Once they’re all in Finn’s truck, Finn tosses his phone to Puck. “Text Syd, will ya? Promised her if we did Ian’s, I’d let her know.”

“Sure.” Puck smirks at the phone and then at Finn. “Got it.”

“Wait, hey, what are you saying to her?” Finn says. “Don’t break my Syd, ok? I like my Syd.”

“I just said I wasn’t Finn,” Puck protests. “Told her I was eating feta cheese on pizza, apparently.”

“She’s gonna ask you if you sourced it. Don’t lie to her. She always knows.”

“Sourced it?” 

“I’m not even totally sure what that means. Like, where it comes from? She’s one of those loco-vore people, I don’t even know,” Finn says, shrugging. 

“Right.” Puck shrugs. “Feta totally comes from Greece, dude. Sheep and goats milk.”

“This feta’s probably from Wisconsin, dude. It’s the cheese capital of everything. So much awesome cheese.”

“No, it can only come from Greece. Otherwise it’s like, not actually feta.”

“That’s that wine stuff. Champagne. That’s the stuff that’s only called that if it’s from the right place. If it’s the white crumbly cheese, it’s feta.”

“No, it’s the same principle, though.” Puck grins. “Trust me on this one.”

“I’m the one who lives in Wisconsin. You should trust me about cheese.”

“Yeah, but it’s food, so you should trust me,” Puck argues. “K totally says I’m going to be a full-fledged food snob in another year or something.”

“If I bite you, you’re gonna turn into food,” Finn says, glaring at Puck for the pure fun of glaring at him. “And I’m gonna bite you in like twenty seconds.”

“Aim for my neck or my nipples, then.”

“Mmm. Unfair. Fine, I’ll bite _you_ later, pizza now.” Finn parks on the street about two blocks up from Ian’s and Kurt looks all pitiful when they have to walk, because of the bitter, biting, barely existent cold. Puck wraps his arm around Kurt’s waist and apparently tickles him, because Kurt squeals a little and shakes his head no. Finn flings his arm over Puck’s shoulders and pokes Kurt on the arm with his fingertip, looking away and acting like it’s not him any time Kurt snaps his head in Finn’s direction. 

“Noooahhh.”

“It isn’t me this time,” Puck says with a sigh. 

“He’s a dirty liar. It’s always him.”

“You’re both awful. How did I end up being poked by two recalcitrant miscreants?” Kurt grins. 

“Hey, I did great on all those placement test things!” Finn protests. “They said I’m smarter than I look on paper.”

“Well, okay then,” Puck laughs. “That it?”

“Yup. It’s usually a little packed on game days, but I’ve never had a problem getting a table. You hear back from Syd?” Finn asks, because Puck never did give him back his phone. 

“She says the queers are invading. Kurt and I are to do recon.”

“Ooh, is she bringing the girls? You guys get along ok at the game? Sorry I sprung the Elevens on you like that, but you know, that’s just the place to sit.”

“I think we fascinated them,” Kurt answers. “Abigail wanted to know how Noah got his hair so curly.”

“She wasn’t impressed with ‘genetics’ as the answer. Or, well, it wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. And yes, she said she’s bringing ‘a few’ of the girls.”

“I’m gonna be psychic and guess it’s Trish and Gina, and we’ll see who else equals ‘a few’ girls,” Finn says. “She want us to wait or get one of the big tables? I think we’ll just go on and get a table.”

“Her exact words were ‘live the stereotype and demand adequate seating like the divas you are’.”

Finn grins. “Yeah. Syd’s awesome. I don’t think it’ll be a problem, though. I think I just have really good timing about when I show up here.”

“Nothing to do with, you know, being the starting quarterback?” Kurt asks.

“Eh. Who knows? I don’t think so,” Finn says, shrugging. Puck holds the door open, letting Kurt walk in first, followed by Finn. When they walk into Ian’s, there’s the usual chorus of “Hudson!” and some comments about the game, and Finn has to shake some hands and high five some people, but it’s another night of good timing and they have a big table in no time. 

“Good timing?” Puck repeats as they sit down. 

“Yeah. We’re here a little later, the dinner rush’s thinning out,” Finn says. 

“Sure, dude.” Puck looks skeptical for some reason. 

“Finn!” Syd’s voice calls across the restaurant. 

“Syd!”

Syd walks across with Gina, Trish, Noel, and Abigail all following her. “I heard a rumor there was BBFAT eating here tonight.” She stops next to the table. “Noah, Kurt.”

“Hey, Syd.”

“Hello, Syd.”

“Hey girls!” Finn says. “Trish, Gina, Noel what is up with that haircut, girl? Abigail, hey!”

“Fuck you, Hudson. It’s a kickass haircut!”

“Sorry, Noel. It’s a kickass haircut. What’s up with that kickass haircut?” Finn says.

“That’s better, Hetero-son.”

Kurt and Puck both make some kind of weird noise, but Finn just laughs, because it’s definitely not the worst thing Noel’s ever called him. It was kinda social, actually, all things considered. “Girls, you remember my brothers? Puck, Kurt, the girls?”

“I thought his name was Noah,” Trish says. 

“No, his name’s Puck,” Finn says, firmly.

“Except the only people that still call me that are Finn, and Kurt when he’s balls-deep inside me,” Puck deadpans.

Finn thinks it’s possible he just swallowed his own tongue just now. Yes. That’s his tongue. He’s swallowed it, and he’s choking to death on it. He makes a sort of sputtering noise and Syd whacks him on the back.

“Don’t,” Finn coughs. “Say balls. To my lesbians.”

“See, this is why we have separate bars.” Noah shrugs, looking unconcerned.

“It’s true,” Syd shrugs. “Ignore the walking stereotype if you have to, girls.”

“Uncool,” Finn says, frowning at Puck, who very obviously doesn’t give a fuck if he’s being glared at or not. 

“Hey, I worked hard to get there, Syd,” Puck smirks. “Don’t discount my efforts.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Kurt says, shaking his head. 

“I am,” Puck agrees. “I’m ready for my pizza with cheese from _Greece_.”

“Fuck off, it’s from _Wisconsin_ ,” Finn counters.

“Feta. Greece.” Puck looks at the girls, clearly hoping for some support. 

“Whatever. Your dick’s from Greece.”

“My dick’s not made from cheese.”

“Good lord, enough with the dick,” Syd rolls her eyes. 

“I _know_ that, dude. Geez,” Finn snorts.

“I want this BBQ Bacon Chicken thing,” Kurt says kinda loudly. “I’m allowed to get something that’s not the FAT thing, right?”

“You can eat whatever you want. It’s your mouth,” Finn says.

Kurt just raises his eyebrows in response and then turns towards Gina. “Gina. So. You were talking about your major being uncommon.”

“It’s an individually-designed major,” Gina says. “Geopolitical systems in third world or developing countries, with a special attention to gender issues.”

“It means she reads Marx every semester,” Syd says. 

“It means she hates me, but likes you guys,” Finn clarifies. 

“Okay?” Puck says, looking confused. 

“No, it doesn’t mean that at all, idiot,” Trish says. 

“So, which one of you’s the singing, dancing queer and which one has fifty thousand instruments?” Noel asks. 

“I only have four.”

“Five,” Kurt counters. 

“There were six, but I sat on one,” Finn says.

“Not really, he’s still alive.”

“I may have sat on one and not told you about it.”

Puck purses his lips and frowns at Finn. “Leave my strays alone, asshole.”

“Whatever, asshole. Whatcha gonna do about it?” Finn smirks at Puck and raises his eyebrows.

“Plenty. Make you sleep on the air mattress next time.”

“But… but I don’t want to sleep on the air mattress,” Finn says. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll just tell Carole it was you that took that perfume and poured it on the neighbor’s dog.”

“It was a good idea.”

“It had met a skunk, dude.”

“Smelled better afterwards, right?”

“God, what are you?” Syd shakes her head. 

“I’m Finn Hudson. I play football,” Finn says, offering his hand. “These are my brothers, Puck and Kurt.”

“Working out is his job,” Kurt adds. 

“Wait, so which one of you is the brother?” Noel asks.

“No, they’re both the brothers,” Gina says. “Right? Or, no, that doesn’t make any sense.”

Kurt looks really amused, and Puck’s smirking at Finn. “Do they think we’re all biologically related? ’Cause.”

“I never said anything about biology. I just said you’re my brothers,” Finn says. “That’s technically accurate.”

“Kurt’s dad is married to Finn’s mom. Noah and Finn have been best friends since first grade. Kurt and Noah have been together for two years. Right?” Syd looks at all three of them. 

“In _June_ ,” Finn says.

“August,” Kurt says, like it’s automatic. 

“June. I was there.”

“And we weren’t?” Puck scoffs.

“Barely. You were paying attention to _him_. I was paying attention to the two of you pretending to not pay attention to each other,” Finn says. “ _I_ notice things.”

“Pot nachos brought us together,” Kurt says dryly. 

“Shopping brought them together,” Finn counters.

“That’s so…” Syd trails off. “Please, you two. Work harder at the stereotype. Live the dream.”

“Hey, leave ’em alone. They’re awesome,” Finn says. “You drive a Volt.”

“At least I don’t smell like patchouli. I bet their bathroom is full of Lush.”

“Oh, hey, how’d you know that?” Finn asks. “That’s kind of creepy, Syd.”

“Let me guess, bath bombs and that whole ‘Dirty’ line.”

“It’s not our fault Lush is so conveniently located,” Kurt says, pursing his lips. “Ask Finn about the glitter.”

“We don’t talk about the glitter,” Finn says. “But I _did_ smell awesome.”

“Glitter, Hudson?” Syd’s grinning kind of scarily. “Are there pictures?”

“Of _course_ not,” Puck answers. 

“There wasn’t anything to even take a picture of,” Finn adds.

Syd starts laughing, looking at Puck, and Finn just catches Puck mouthing “lies” to her over his shoulder. Puck quickly puts on his best dumb expression and blinks once at Finn. “That’s right. Nothing to see.”

“If I see those pictures on the next QSA poster, we’re gonna have some words, dude.”

“It’ll say ‘Glitter Is For Everyone’.”

Finn raises his eyebrows at Puck. “We’re really gonna play it like that?”

Puck just grins. “Bring it.”

“Oh, it is _brought_ ,” Finn says. “Everybody say bye to Puck. You might not see him later.”

“However will we survive?” Syd sighs with a shake of her head. 

“I dunno. Sad and dreary Puck-less existence,” Finn says. “Terrible way to live, but you know, actions have consequences or whatever, so I’m gonna have to do something awful to him later. You understand how it is.”

“And then your other brother will do something awful to you. I see how this ends.” Syd smirks at Kurt. “You win.”

“Kurt always wins. That’s how it works,” Finn explains.

“It’s true.” Kurt shrugs airily. “I do.”

“That’s an interesting family dynamic you’ve got there, Hudson,” Trish says. 

Kurt laughs. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Finn starts to cough again and busies himself with his drink. It’s true. They have no idea.

 

Despite the fact that he’s working on about three hours of sleep, Finn still gets up at six on Sunday to do his workout. No excuse for slacking, so he does his weights and then goes on his run, and is back to his room by eight, where Puck and Kurt are still sleeping. Finn wakes them up and bothers them for a while, then they all get showered and head to brunch by around ten or so. 

The dorm’s pretty quiet. A lot of the guys sleep in like big lazy bums on Sundays, if they even made it back to the dorm after wherever it was they were last night. Come to think of it, Finn’s not sure he heard so much as a peep from Jamie last night or this morning, though he could hear Doug snoring in his room. 

“Where’re we going?” Puck whispers as they head towards the door back to the hall. 

“Hmm. I was thinking La Brioche?” Finn says. “I think you’ll like it. It’s snobby, like you.”

“Are we sure about you picking brunch _and_ dinner?” Kurt asks, like he just can’t help himself. 

“Syd loves this place. It’s all, like, organic and local stuff. Seriously, it’s _fancy_. You’re gonna love it.”

“Aren’t you underdressed, then?” Puck smirks. 

“I’m the quarterback. I’m never underdressed.” Finn grins at Puck. “Anyway, you guys can be my accessories.”

“I don’t think I’ll fit through your earlobe.”

“I’ve always wanted to be a purse. No, wait, I haven’t.”

Finn rolls his eyes. “Ok. Whatever. I’ll just go eat all the eggs and bacon and french toast without you guys, then.” He heads out the door, pausing in the hallway to let them catch up. 

“You don’t have an appreciation for bacon.”

“I have an appreciation for you, and you’re powered by bacon,” Finn says. “Counts.”

“I need that on a T-shirt. ‘Powered by Bacon’. I’ll wear it to services.” Puck laughs. 

Finn throws his arms around Puck and Kurt’s shoulders while they wait the endless wait for that elevator. He glances up and down the hallway, then grins and leans over to kiss Kurt. Kurt startles slightly before relaxing into the kiss, and after a moment, Finn can feel Puck’s lips on his neck. 

The elevator finally shows up, and all three of them seem to remember that, oh yeah, other people might be coming out of that elevator. Kurt and Puck’s arms behind Finn sort of disappear, dropped down to their sides, but Finn keeps his arms draped across their shoulders as they enter the conveniently empty elevator.

Kurt and Puck are suitably impressed by Finn’s choice of brunch place, and by the time they finish eating and get back to the dorm, Jamie’s up in the common area playing Xbox. They end up spending the rest of the time talking to Jamie, with Kurt providing helpful pointers on Motorsport 2, which Jamie’s actually pretty cool about. Finn manages to get them dropped off at the Milwaukee airport without making any kind of big emotional scene, not that he doesn’t think about it, and Finn thinks maybe they’ve found a way to make this whole weird thing work, even in Madison.


	7. Two Weeks Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now they have to face the harder part. [4–6 October 2013]

Finn has two hours and forty minutes to get his head on straight and figure out exactly what he’s going to do when he sees them, so of course that means he actually spends the whole drive listening to the radio, scanning through stations every time one fades, looking for something nice and mind-numbing. Classic rock is always a go-to on a long drive. 

He’s nearly forty-five minutes early for their flight, but he doesn't want to get turned around and then end up being late, because he doesn't want them to get there and look for him, but not find him. He doesn't want them, Puck especially, to worry. Even though it’ll kick him over into the next hour of parking, probably, Finn goes ahead and parks anyway. An extra two bucks is worth making sure he’s there when they get off the plane. 

Ten minutes before their flight is supposed to arrive, Finn locks his truck and goes into the terminal, where he wanders around the baggage claim, feeling a little bit like a creeper, trying to figure out which one their bags will be on. Maybe he could go ahead and find their bags before they make it up there, and then they’d not only have their bags, but he’d have something to _do_. Of course, the problem with that plan is that the times Finn has flown, he’s usually beaten his luggage to the carousel by at least a few minutes.

The board shows their flight as on time, then finally indicates it’s at the gate after what feels like thirteen years. Finn starts to walk up and down the baggage claim area—it’s not pacing, just walking back and forth in the same general area—until he sees them.

They look… well, they look like _them_ , which means they look like the best thing Finn’s seen in two weeks. They’re beautiful.

 

Noah squeezes Kurt's hand. Once again, they're entering uncharted waters, something for which there's no manual. Not that Noah Googled; okay, maybe he did. There's no manual and no guide, and they're both a little scared. 

They were supposed to get through this year—and the two years after it—without incident. Just get through it, the three of them, and then Finn would be through with football, he'd hopefully be in New York, and they could go on. This wasn't part of the plan. Noah hadn't agonized over what to do to end up in a situation where they might all three be too scared to be together anymore.

Some asshole decided to post things online about Finn, trying to label him when Finn tries his hardest not to think about it, not to put a label on himself – all not part of their plan. Noah sighs. 

“God, baby.”

“I know.” Noah kisses his temple as they walk through the gates. 

They could lose everything after all.

Finn’s pacing near baggage claim, and he freezes when he spots them, tugging on the ball cap on his head. Noah keeps his arm around Kurt and they stop about four feet away. Finn looks a little scruffy, his face like he hasn't quite eaten enough lately, and Noah bites at his lip for a second. 

“Hey,” they say softly, simultaneously, like it was planned. 

“Hey,” he says back. Finn looks like he’s holding himself in place, coiled for something – but Noah can’t tell what, and judging by the tension in Kurt’s back, Kurt can’t either. 

“Good drive?” Noah says, feeling utterly lame. What do you _say_?

“Yeah, wasn't too bad,” Finn says. He shifts from foot to foot, like he used to do in high school when he wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to something. “Do you have bags? I can get your bags.”

“Just our carry-ons,” Kurt answers, voice still soft. He twitches his shoulder slightly, like he’s indicating the strap on his shoulder and the bag in his hand. 

“Ok, yeah. Yeah. You need anything before we go to the truck?” Finn asks. “Coffee or something?”

“We’re good,” Noah answers for both of them. “You?”

“I had a pop a little while ago. I’m good.” Finn reaches out his arm, taking a couple steps towards Kurt, and slips the strap of Kurt’s bag off of his shoulder without actually touching Kurt, slinging the bag onto his own arm. 

“Did you talk to Dad or Carole?” Kurt asks as they walk out. “I texted Dad when we took off but he didn't respond yet.”

“Yeah, Dad knows when I was picking you up, but I told him I didn't know when we’d make it in,” Finn says. “ Wasn't sure if you’d need dinner or just to get out somewhere and stretch your legs for a while.”

Noah nods a little, and Kurt does, too. “Okay,” Noah finally says into the air before they reach the truck. 

Finn sets Kurt’s bag in the toolbox in the back of the truck, then puts his hand out for Noah’s, so that their three bags are nestled together in the weatherproof box. Finn leans against the side of the truck, his eyes darting from Kurt’s face to Noah’s, then down to the ground, then making the circuit again. 

“You don’t need dinner or anything?” Finn asks. 

“No, Finn,” Kurt answers, looking at Finn like he’s just waiting for Finn’s gaze to come back. 

“I figured we could put some miles between us and the airport, food’ll get a little cheaper once we’re away from the city,” Finn says, but he doesn’t sound like he’s even paying too much attention to what he’s saying. He’s just talking to talk. “Maybe we could stop in forty-five minutes or an hour or whatever. Eat dinner then.” He glances up at Kurt, possibly for approval.

“Finn,” Kurt repeats. “Finn.”

Finn is visibly trembling now. “Kurt,” Finn says, his tone almost making Kurt’s name into a question. 

Noah squeezes Kurt’s hand. “Finn,” Noah says, trying to make it sound like an answer.

“Can we…” Finn starts, then bites down on his words, his face uncertain and strained.

“We can do whatever you like.”

“Can we go somewhere?” Finn asks. 

“Where do you want to go?” Kurt’s sentence sounds unnaturally short, like there’s a word missing. 

“Somewhere,” Finn says, his voice soft and low. “Somewhere with you. I need…”

“Okay,” Noah answers. “Let’s get a little ways out of the city.”

“Yeah,” Finn breathes. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” He nods his head slightly a few times, like he’s trying to get refocused, then he opens the passenger door of his truck, with a little movement to indicate Noah and Kurt should climb in.

Kurt slides into the middle seat, and Noah climbs in after him, closing the door after them. Finn goes around to the driver’s side and gets in, starting the truck. His hand seems to twitch in Kurt’s direction involuntarily, but then Finn clamps both hands firmly onto the steering wheel. 

“Maybe outside Gary?” Kurt suggests.

“Yeah. Ok. Yeah, that’s not far,” Finn says, paying for the parking and then peeling out of the lot faster than he probably should. 

“Shouldn't be too expensive,” Noah says carefully, because he knows what he thinks they need, and he knows Kurt is on the same page, but Finn’s still a little guarded. 

“I've got a hundred dollars in my back pocket,” Finn says, simply.

Noah can feel Kurt relax a little against him, and Noah exhales slowly. Okay. They’re okay. “That should more than do it,” Noah agrees. 

They drive in silence for the thirty minutes or so to Gary, where Finn pulls into the parking lot of a Best Western. He leaves the truck running as he goes inside without a word, just a long, heavy look, and comes back out a few minutes later, pulling the truck around to the other side of the building. 

“Two seventeen,” Finn says. “You want your bags?”

“Just Noah’s,” Kurt answers. 

Finn nods, pressing the key card into Kurt’s hand before getting out of the truck and retrieving Noah’s bag from the toolbox. He stands by the side of the truck for a minute, looking uncertain, like he’s not sure where he’s supposed to go. 

“C’mon,” Noah says, tilting his head just slightly towards the motel.

Finn nods slowly, throwing Noah’s bag over his shoulder, and walks back around the truck, following behind Kurt and Noah as they head towards the motel, Kurt swiping the key to open the outer door. Finn looks hesitant, and Kurt looks over his shoulder and smiles a little. “Two seventeen, you said?”

When Finn nods, they head towards the stairs. When the door closes, leaving them alone in the stairwell, Kurt and Noah exchange a look before each reaching out a hand to take one of Finn’s. Finn lets his hands be taken, lets himself be led passively up the stairs. Kurt swipes the key through the door at 217 and turns on the first light, plus one of the lamps, while Noah puts out the “do not disturb” sign and flips the bolt on the door. Then Kurt pulls Noah and Finn both towards the bed, sitting on the edge of it, Finn between them. 

Finn sits stiffly, ball cap still on, and Noah has the urge to hit the bill from below and flip it off, so he does. Finn blinks rapidly, startled, and puts his hand up to his hair, then paws his hand down his face, exhaling loudly. 

“You don’t need to hide from us, you know,” Noah says quietly. 

“Not hiding from you,” Finn answers, but he doesn’t look at Noah’s face as he says it. 

“Mmmm.” Kurt tilts his head and slowly pulls off his jacket. Noah nods a little and slides off his own jacket, tossing it behind them. “Finn.” He stops and reaches behind Finn, taking Noah’s hand and pressing their joined hands to Finn’s back. “What do you want, darling?”

Finn tenses under their touch, like he’s considering leaping away, but he doesn’t. “I don’t know,” he says, quietly. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to want.”

“Didn’t ask what you’re supposed to want.” Noah meets Kurt’s eyes and puts his free hand on Finn’s knee. “We just want to know what you _do_ want. If—” He stops himself and sighs.

Finn slumps forward, face in his hands, his shoulders starting to shake. Kurt pulls their joined hands higher on Finn’s back, resting them between his shoulder blades. “Shhh. Oh, darling, we’re so sorry. Wish we could fix things for you.”

“I’m so tired, Kurt,” Finn says into his hands. “I’m just so tired.”

“We love you,” Noah says quietly. “We just.”

“I feel like they’re watching me. All of the time. Like I can’t relax for a second, or they’re gonna figure it all out.”

“No-one’s watching you here. It’s just us. Just the three of us.” Kurt smiles a little. “Snap, Crackle, and Pop, remember?”

Finn doesn’t look up, but he nods and sniffles. “Always.”

“We can figure out the rest of the world. But we need to make sure what _you_ want,” Kurt says softly.

“I want to be here,” Finn says, his voice low and rough. “With you. That’s what I want. It’s… but what do you want? You can’t want all this secrecy and sneaking around. How can you want this? Why would you want this?” He shakes his head, hands still on face. 

Kurt takes a deep breath. “We love you. We want you.”

“I’m… what if I’ve had it too good this past year?” Finn says. “It’s felt too good to be true, and I’m afraid it’s all coming apart now, that everybody’s figuring out I’m not… what they think I am.”

Noah shrugs. “Like I said. We’ll figure out the rest of them later. But _we_ see you. And we want _you_.”

“I want you, too,” Finn says. “I was so scared, you guys. I thought maybe…”

“We didn’t know what to do,” Kurt admits. “Our first impulse was to turn around and head back to Madison, except of course that wouldn’t particularly have helped in the long-term. I wish we could have been there, though, darling.”

“I’m just scared one day you’re gonna wake up, and you’re gonna look at this, how I’m making you keep all these secrets for me, and you’re gonna be, like, oh god, what are we doing, and—”

Noah interrupts him. “Stop. We’re not going anywhere, and you’re not making us do anything we’re not choosing to do.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Finn says, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “This, you, any of it.”

“We don’t want to lose you either,” Kurt says. “We love you. We want you to be happy.”

“I’m happy with you,” Finn says. “I love you. That’s the easiest part.”

“We’ll deal with the harder part tomorrow, or driving back on Sunday.” 

“I’m already tired of the harder part,” Finn says. “It’s been the harder part for two weeks.”

“We know.” Kurt rests his head on Finn’s shoulder. “We can’t imagine, but we know. One foot in front of the other.”

“Keep marchin’ on,” Finn answers, leaning his head over to rest on top of Kurt’s. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Are you?” Noah lets his voice be teasing at last, his hand creeping just a little bit up Finn’s thigh.

“Yeah. Very glad.”

“Hmm,” Kurt purrs, and Noah watches Kurt’s head tilt up and listens to the soft sound of Kurt’s lips connecting with Finn’s neck. “Would you like to know something, Finn?”

Finn’s eyes close and he nods his head slightly, tipping his head to give Kurt better access to his neck. “There’s a reason we brought up _my_ bag,” Noah finishes. “Can you guess why?”

“Chocolate?” Finn says, his mouth twisting into a little smile.

Noah laughs. “Well, that too, actually. But I don’t think we need chocolate in the same way to have a little fun. Or a lot of fun.”

Finn smiles again, but then he sighs heavily. “Guys, I… look, it’s always full disclosure, so.” He sighs again. “The day the blind item was released, when I got so shitfaced at that party. The cheerleader.” He frowns at himself. “It was _very_ brief and I used a condom, but, I mean, it was only two weeks ago. If you don’t feel comfortable, you know… until I can get tested again.”

Noah bites at his bottom lip and raises an eyebrow at Kurt, who mirrors the expression. Yeah, it probably wouldn’t be a huge deal to run out and find some condoms, but fuck, they both hate them. It’s totally not what they should do, from a health standpoint or whatever, but Noah dips his head forward at the same time Kurt does, and yeah, they’re on the same page. “We’re good,” Kurt says after a moment. 

“I’m sorry. It was stupid. I was _so_ fucking stupid, guys, I wasn’t even thinking, I was just so messed up—”

“It’s okay,” Noah interjects. “Like we said. Okay?”

“You’re sure?” Finn searches Noah’s face, then looks over at Kurt. 

“We’re sure,” Kurt echoes.

“Ok. Ok, then,” Finn says. “If you’re sure. I’m still so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Noah says, leaning in and pressing his lips to the corner of Finn’s mouth. 

“I’m sorry I’m so scruffy.”

Kurt giggles into Finn’s neck, the sound muted. “Mmm, Noah loves it.”

“I’m sorry I’m wearing the ugly flannel shirt you hate.”

“I can burn it later.” Kurt giggles again.

“I’m sorry I’m not kissing you yet.”

“You could fix that,” Noah murmurs.

“Mmhmm,” Finn says, brushing his lips against Noah’s softly, just the tip of his tongue flicking against Noah’s mouth. Noah parts his lips to let his tongue meet Finn’s, and he can hear Kurt making a happy, contented little noise. Finn’s hand slides into Noah’s hair, holding him close and deepening the kiss. Noah can feel Kurt’s arms wrapping around them both, his lips close to theirs, probably along Finn’s jaw. 

Finn’s hand slides down the back of Noah’s head, down his neck, pressing down his spine, until Finn’s hand is splayed across Noah’s lower back, pulling his body closer against Finn’s. Finn’s fingertips dig into Noah’s back, and Noah can’t help but grin a little against Finn’s lips, thinking that there’s going to be a few bruises there. 

Kurt’s hands must be everywhere, because Noah can feel them along his arms and head and Finn randomly stiffens or moans because of what Noah’s sure is Kurt’s hands and fingers. Finally, Finn breaks the kiss, turning his face towards Kurt, and Kurt leans up, his mouth fusing with Finn’s, and Noah turns his attention to Finn’s neck and collarbone and _fuck_ there are too many layers of clothes between all of them. 

“Clothes _off_ ,” Noah says roughly, pulling away slightly to rip off his own T-shirt. 

Finn starts trying to shrug out of his flannel shirt without pulling his mouth off of Kurt’s or disentangling himself from Kurt’s arms. He manages to get one arm out of a sleeve, then seems to forget what he’s doing, tugging up Kurt’s shirt instead. Kurt starts to laugh, pushing Finn’s flannel shirt the rest of the way off, and then unbuttoning his own shirt. “Take off your own clothes, more like.”

“Sorry. Forgot about the buttons,” Finn says, lifting his T-shirt off over his head. “Didn’t break them this time?”

“No,” Kurt acknowledges, tossing his shirt aside and then pulling off his undershirt before putting his hands to his belt. “Stop staring, baby, and take your jeans off.”

Noah grins. “You like it when I stare.”

“Well, it makes _me_ feel objectified,” Finn says. 

Noah leers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Stoppit.”

“I don’t wanna.” Noah shrugs. “You two are hot.”

“Kurt’s hot. I’m just here to do the heavy lifting.”

“Mmm, you are too hot,” Kurt contradicts, running his hand down Finn’s chest. “We are three very attractive men.”

Finn makes a face. “Stop it,” Noah says with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t you think we’re qualified to judge that?”

“Uh. Maybe?”

“Are you doubting our abilities?” Kurt teases. “Two gay men who live in New York City? I think we would know.”

“Maybe you’re just used to me,” Finn says, grinning a little. “I, like, grew on you.”

“Hmm.” Noah pretends to think about it. “Nah, we didn’t see you for _months_ last year and still thought you were hot.”

“Yeah, but you’ve known me forever. It’s not like I look that different,” Finn says. “Taller, maybe. More ginormous.” While he’s talking, he helps Kurt push his jeans down, pressing his palms flat against Kurt’s hips and sliding them down his thighs. “You’re the beautiful ones. I mean, _look_ at you.” And Finn does just that, runs his eyes all the way down Kurt’s body, from his face to his feet, and then does the same to Noah. “Beautiful.”

“Oh, you do look a little different,” Kurt contradicts. “Mr. Working-Out-Is-My-Job.”

“It _is_ my job.”

‘We noticed,” Noah says admiringly. 

“I like my job.”

“ _We_ like your job.”

“If I push you down on the floor are you gonna get upset about germs or something?”

“Carpet burn, maybe.”

“Mmm, that’s kinda part of the point,” Finn says, grinning. 

“There _are_ probably more germs on the bedspread than the carpet.”

“Then c’mere,” Finn says, wrapping his hands around Kurt’s waist and pulling him up into his lap, then sliding off the bed and onto the floor. He slides his hands up Kurt’s back, cradling Kurt’s head as he lays him down on the floor. 

“This what you call pushing?” Kurt asks, raising one eyebrow. 

“No. That was protecting your delicate head. The floor is _hard_!” Finn says, then slides his hand up Kurt’s side, under his arm, up his arm, moving it above Kurt’s head and holding it against the floor, hard. Finn leans over, letting most of his weight press against Kurt, and crushes his mouth to Kurt’s. 

Noah grins. “Yeah, that’s pushing.” He slides off the bed, lying on his side beside them, just watching. Puck moistens his lip a little with his tongue, knowing there’s going to be at least a little bit of a bruise from that. 

“Yeah, what Puck said,” Finn says, breaking the kiss and grinning at Kurt. “Pushing enough? Or you want more pushing?”

Kurt wriggles on the floor, just a little, smirking up at Finn. “What’s the more pushing involve?”

Finn’s smile is huge as he slides his other hand up Kurt’s side, pulling Kurt’s other arm up above his head and pinioning his other wrist there, as well. Finn leans a little more weight into his hands. “Hmm. Some of that?”

“What are you going to do with me now?”

“Eat you up.”

Kurt laughs. “Oh? Are you going to help him, Puck?”

“Mmm, maybe.”

“Yes, he’s going to help,” Finn says, very seriously. “First, I’m gonna do this, though.” Finn starts nibbling around Kurt’s earlobe, nipping along his jawline, then grazing his teeth down Kurt’s throat. He runs his tongue in little circles against the vein in Kurt’s neck and then bites him there, hard enough that when he changes to soft little kisses on the same spot, Kurt’s neck has a near-perfect circle of teethmarks. Kurt’s eyes are half-closed, and his knees bent, feet pushing up a little as he whimpers. 

“See?” Finn says, close to Kurt’s ear. “Eat you up.”

Kurt laughs again, and Noah reaches down, running his hand over Kurt’s leg. “We didn’t know you had vampiric tendencies.”

“Hey, no blood,” Finn says, nuzzling the juncture of Kurt’s neck and shoulder. “Mmm. Eat you up here, too.” He bites gently at Kurt’s shoulder, nips at his collarbone, then rubs his cheek against Kurt’s chest. 

“Hmmm.” Kurt hums a little, his eyes dropping further closed, and Noah grins, kissing Kurt’s inner thigh. 

“See, Puck’s gonna eat you up, too.” Finn shifts to the side a little, so he’s only lying across half of Kurt’s body. 

“He is rather tasty,” Noah agrees, pressing his tongue flat against Kurt and licking upwards. “Kurt buffet.” Noah kisses the rest of the way up to Kurt’s pelvis, resting his head against Kurt and licking at the base of Kurt’s cock. “Don’t you think?”

“Mmm. Yes,” Finn says, biting Kurt at the crook of his elbow. “Very.”

“You like this, don’t you, blue eyes? Both of us salivating over you?” Noah grins and puts his lips just over the head of Kurt’s cock. “Hmm?”

Kurt shudders. “ _Yes_.”

“Good thing, too,” Finn says, in between little bites up Kurt’s arm. “Not like you can get away. Working out is my _job_ , Kurt.” 

Kurt giggles, and Noah can tell his voice is strained, a little needy. “It is. It really is. Baby, I can’t move my hands.”

“I think that was his plan, K.” Noah laughs around the bit of Kurt’s cock barely sitting in his mouth. “So we could have our wicked, wicked way with you.”

“Yup. I’m a good planner like that,” Finn agrees. “I mean, I guess you could try to get away. You’re stronger than you look.” He laughs a little. 

Noah slides back and smirks. “Do you _want_ him to try to get away, Finn?”

Finn grins at Noah, nodding. “Yup.” He presses down a little harder against Kurt’s wrists, leaning against Kurt’s shoulder. “He couldn’t, though.”

Kurt flexes his arm, the muscles rippling. “I’m stronger than I look,” he counters, then sighs, his torso shifting. “But not as strong as you,” he concedes. 

“Nope. I’m a lot stronger. A lot bigger, too. I could hold you here all night. I could hold you here, and I could do anything I wanted to you,” Finn says. “I could hold you here while Puck does anything he wants to you.”

“Mmm, you two in cahoots.” Kurt grins. “Bad, bad boys.”

“Bad as you want.” Noah grins. “Whatcha want, blue eyes?” Noah runs his finger down the underside of Kurt’s erection, then rolls Kurt’s balls in his hand. “You want me to fuck you, while Finn watches? You’d like that.”

“Mmmhmm.” Kurt nods. “What do you say, darling?”

“I think you should let him,” Finn says. “I’ll just be over here keeping you from escaping.”

“I think you wish I’d try.” Kurt peers up at Finn. “Why don’t you tell us about that while Puck fucks me?”

“I do wish you’d try,” Finn agrees. “I’d like to hold you down a little harder. You should wiggle a little bit more so I can do that.”

Noah reaches over to pull the lube out of his bag while Kurt’s talking, and slides a slicked finger inside Kurt as Finn replies, and he laughs as Kurt does just that, wiggling and trying to push himself onto Noah’s finger. “Yeah, we’re in cahoots,” he agrees, exchanging a smirk with Finn. “I make you wiggle so Finn can hold you down.”

“Puck’s very helpful that way,” Finn says. “Mmm, look at you trying to get away like that! I should probably make sure you aren’t escaping, because that would make Puck sad and, you know, cahoots or whatever.” Finn shifts his body a little, so he’s out of Noah’s way, but is pressing his forearms along Kurt’s. “You should try a little harder, though, so I can hold you down harder, and make all kinds of nice little bruises all over you. I’ve heard you bruise.”

Noah licks his own lips and pushes a second finger inside Kurt. “You heard the man,” Noah says, his voice a little rough. “You’re being too docile.”

Kurt giggles. “Not a—Mmm, yes—common accusation. Ohh, fuck yes.” He moves again, which makes Finn push down harder against Kurt’s arms and bite at his throat again.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Finn asks, his voice low, but loud enough for Noah to hear him. “Hold you down like this?”

Noah pulls out his finger and coats his cock, swinging Kurt’s legs over his shoulders and positioning himself. “Tell us,” Noah urges Finn. 

Finn looks at Noah out of the corner of his eyes and bites his lip a little, grinning. “Since that first time in your room. I peeled that shirt off of you and put my hands around your waist, you remember. You had such _tiny_ little bones,” Finn breathes into Kurt’s ear. 

Kurt groans, his head falling back. “Fuck.”

Noah grins. “Yes.” He pushes inside Kurt steadily. “Definitely.” He pumps in and out of Kurt twice, slowly, then smirks at Finn. “You know. If you were to sort of. Straddle Kurt’s shoulders.” Kurt manages to look predatory, for all that he’s being held down and fucked. 

“Yeah, it’d be a lot harder for him to get away then, if I— Ohhh,” Finn says.

“You could fill that pretty little mouth up, so he stops telling us what to do,” Noah adds with a grin at Kurt, who just smirks at him. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Finn says. “Yeah, that’s a really great, yeah. Oh, FUCK, I still have pants on!” Finn shifts his hands a little, so he’s holding both of Kurt’s wrists with one hand, and starts frantically unfastening his jeans with the other. Noah laughs and reaches forward, helping Finn push them off. 

“You know,” Noah adds, voice low. “He can’t move if you’re holding him down. You’re going to have do all the work.”

Finn’s mouth turns into a shocked little O, and Noah chuckles. Kurt interrupts. “He means, darling, you’re going to have to fuck my mouth.”

“Oh, fuck,” Finn whispers. “Yeah. Ok.” Finn straddles Kurt’s shoulders, still holding Kurt’s wrist down with one hand, and reaches down to cup Kurt’s face with the other hand. “God, your mouth is so beautiful.”

“And it wants your cock.” Kurt sounds amused and Noah shifts his angle to go deeper into Kurt, which makes Kurt’s hips tilt up, his torso wiggle, and Finn shift in place. Noah shakes his head a little; they are so not going to last long. Not like this, all dirty talk and Kurt pinned down. “Tell Puck what you’re doing to me.”

“Mmm, ok, but you should stop talking,” Finn says. “I’m sliding my hand under Kurt’s head and lifting it up a little. His lips are— _fuck_ —on the head of my cock. God, his lips are so soft, Puck, they’re so fucking soft. I’m pushing my cock inside his mouth now. Mmm, that’s why he’s not talking anymore.”

Noah closes his eyes, picturing what Finn’s describing, and he increases his speed, pounding into Kurt hard, his hands tight on Kurt’s thighs. “Mmm, fuck, yes,” he manages to say. “Tell me more.”

“I’m holding his head in my hand. I’m—god, oh _god_ , Kurt—fucking his mouth. He’s just, he’s just _letting me_ fuck it, Puck. I’m still holding him down and he’s just, _fuck_ , he’s letting me fuck his mouth.”

Noah groans at the sound of Finn’s voice and the image he’s painting. “Fuck. ’Course he is.” Noah’s pretty sure he’s digging into Kurt, pinching at his skin as he slams in. “Fuck him harder, darling.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Finn moans, as soon as Noah says ‘darling’. “God, Puck, god, I’m… fuck.” Finn’s hips are visibly snapping forward, his arm moving. “God, his mouth, Puck, tell me, tell me, please, fucking _tell me_.”

Noah can’t figure out what Finn means for a split second, before realization hits him. “ _Ohh_. Come for us, Finn, come in Kurt’s mouth, make him swallow it all.”

Finn comes with a wordless cry, pounding forward into Kurt’s mouth. Kurt’s body shudders around Noah, and Noah thrusts in, hard, sliding his hand rapidly up and down Kurt’s cock as they come, one after another, and Noah slumps against the side of the bed in lieu of holding himself up. Finn carefully slides off of Kurt’s shoulders, leaning over and pressing his mouth against Kurt’s, kissing him gently. 

“Is your mouth ok?” Finn asks. 

Kurt giggles. “My mouth is fine. My ass is, too.”

“Awesome.”

“His ass and mouth _are_ awesome,” Noah agrees, sliding Kurt’s legs back to the carpet and stretching out beside them. Noah drapes one arm loosely over Kurt’s stomach. “We’re awesome.”

“We are,” Kurt agrees. “What’s that saying? Parts and adding or something.”

“Incoherency after coming, check.”

“We should stay here _all weekend_ ,” Finn says. “Right here. On the floor.”

“I’d get cold,” Kurt complains. “You two might even get cold.”

“I don’t get cold. Anyway, I bet Puck has a blanket in his bag. Or I can just do this,” Finn says, reaching up and pulling the blankets off the bed and on top of Kurt. “See? Stay on the floor with me all weekend. It’s nice on this floor.”

Noah laughs and swats the blankets off his face. “Or you might suffocate us. No, I have an extra sweater and a pair of gloves in there today.”

Finn shrugs. “We’d figure it out.”

“Also we might be reported missing.”

“But everything is better down here on the floor. I like it so much better than anywhere else.”

“Do you?” Kurt asks, smirking just a little. “Would you still if we got up?”

“Well, no,” Finn says. He throws his arm across Kurt’s chest. “If you get up, it ruins the whole floor experience for me. It’s why you’ve gotta stay here.”

Noah laughs. “Incoherency, part two. Check.”

“I’m not incoherent. I can hear me just fine,” Finn grumbles. 

“We’re going to get up, and we’re going to go through a drive-through, and then we’re going to find our way to Lima.”

“I only like the drive-through part of that sentence,” Finn says. “I’m _starving_. Ok, yeah, fine, I’ll get off the floor for food.”

“Let’s get milkshakes,” Noah says.

“French fries,” Finn adds.

“I think it’s my job to suggest a hamburger or steak, therefore completely asserting our masculinity and our age.”

“I don’t think you have to say anything about hamburgers to assert your masculinity,” Finn says. “I mean, you know.” He makes a little face and sort of tips his head in Noah and Kurt’s general direction.

“Hmmm.” Kurt shrugs. “Please tell me this motel has express checkout, so we don’t have to go back to the desk.”

“All we have to do is leave the key on the table thing,” Finn says. “Which is good, ’cause, uh. I kinda don’t want to have to go in and talk to that guy again.”

“Especially not after just, what, an hour? Hour and a half?” Noah laughs. 

“Power nap. That’s totally my story.”

“Power something.”

“Power _what_?” Finn asks. 

Noah just laughs. “Let’s go get your french fries.”

They slowly get dressed, and Kurt flings the blankets messily back on top of the bed while they rotate through the bathroom. “Ready?” Kurt asks after Noah exits. 

“Steak ‘n Shake?”

“Ooh, cheese sauce!” 

When they climb back into Finn’s truck, redepositing Noah’s bag in the toolbox, Noah takes the middle seat and Kurt closes the door. Finn bumps Noah’s knee with his knee, then nudges Noah’s side with his elbow before cranking the truck. 

“So, have you guys forgotten how to drive yet?” Finn asks.

“I drive,” Kurt protests. “Other people’s cars.”

“That’s not driving. That’s, like, circling blocks. Three blocks isn’t a drive, dude.”

“You don’t really _need_ to drive unless you live outside the City,” Noah argues.

“You might need to drive some time, though, so don’t forget how to do it,” Finn says.

Noah shrugs. “Duly noted.”

The dude on the other side of the drive-through speaker thing probably gets pretty frustrated with them, Noah decides, because they keep adding ‘just one more thing’ to their order, and it takes an obscene amount of time to get their hamburgers and fries and milkshakes and Finn’s cheese sauce. “Hard workout today, guys?” the window guy says in an attempt to be friendly. 

Finn has to lean his forehead over on the steering wheel, he laughs so hard, shaking his head and saying, “Oh man. Oh _man_.”

“Thanks,” Noah calls over Finn’s laughter as they take the last of their bags and get back on I–80/90 heading east. Noah finds himself the holder of the cheese sauce, eating with one hand, so it takes a long time to finish all their food. 

“Can I have some of your milkshake?” Finn whines.

“It’s chocolate, asshole,” Noah protests. 

“Just a _sip_ of it, asshole. I won’t drink a lot.”

“Fine,” Noah grumbles, holding it up for Finn. 

“I liked that lime flavor they had for awhile,” Kurt says absently, staring at the remains of his milkshake. 

“The turtle one’s good, though,” Finn says. “And at least _you_ don’t mind sharing yours.”

“Never come between a man and his chocolate,” Kurt says sagely, dropping his empty cup into the trash bag and then putting his hand on Noah’s leg. 

Noah raises an eyebrow. “Don’t come between a man and his men.”

Finn grins and rests his hand on Noah’s other leg. Noah returns the grin and puts his hands over both of theirs. “Wise words,” Kurt murmurs. They drive through the darkness in companionable quiet, the radio playing low. 

Noah doesn’t remember the drive to and from Chicago being so long, but it’s been almost two years since they made it, so maybe he just forgot. Somewhere in the countryside between South Bend and Toledo, which is a lot of territory, Finn’s hand starts sliding up the inside of Noah’s thigh. Noah lets his legs fall open just a little, smiling slightly. Finn starts tracing little circles with his fingertips, and Noah chuckles. “Tease.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Finn says, but his fingers move higher on Noah’s thigh. 

“He did learn from the best,” Kurt points out, resting his head on Noah’s shoulder. 

Finn laughs and deliberately slides his hand the rest of the way up to cup Noah’s cock through his jeans. “Better?”

“Yep.” Noah grins. “As long as you realize I’m not the gearshift.”

“Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

“So am I still the king of teasing?” Kurt asks, moving his own hand under Noah’s shirt. 

“Can you manage to tease both of us from that seat?” Noah challenges. 

“I’m gonna crash this truck, aren’t I? We’re all gonna die.”

“We’d die happy,” Noah says philosophically. “But prematurely.”

“At least none of us are prematurely grey.”

“Well, I’d rather live, grey or otherwise,” Finn says, “so don’t be too distracting.”

Keeping in mind Finn’s request, they do their best to be distracting-but-not-too-distracting as they drive across the top of Indiana and into Ohio. Noah notices around Toledo that Kurt’s fallen asleep, and he turns to Finn. “You okay to keep driving?”

“Yeah, I’m cool,” Finn says softly. “Haven’t been sleeping that much lately, so I’m kind of used to it. Nowhere near my bedtime.”

“Okay. M’gonna try to sleep. Way past mine.”

“I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“Okay. Thanks.” With that, Noah closes his eyes, the radio still playing softly in the background.

 

Some noise or movement wakes Finn, and in that disorienting time between asleep and awake, he isn’t completely sure where he is or if he’s really there with them, or it’s another one of those almost-real dreams he’s been having for the past two weeks. Then Kurt stirs slightly next to him, and Finn’s fully awake, peering around the room in the steel grey pre-dawn light. Really here, they’re really here, all three of them together, and for this moment, everything’s quiet and everything’s ok. 

Finn lightly touches Kurt on the top of his shoulder. He strokes his fingers down Kurt’s arm, down the back of his hand, his fingers. Finn brings his hand back to Kurt’s shoulder, pressing his palm against Kurt’s arm and running it down him, detouring to slide across his ribs and over the sharp bone of his hip, the soft fuzz on Kurt’s leg. Puck shifts in his sleep, one arm suddenly coming down across Kurt, his hand landing on Finn’s chest, and he mutters something indistinguishable. 

That’s it, right there. That’s what Finn needed these past two weeks, not answers, just them. He wraps his arm about both of them, pulling them close, so tight that Kurt’s a little bit crushed between Finn’s chest and Puck’s, Finn burying his face in Kurt’s hair. “I love you. I love you,” Finn whispers into Kurt’s hair. Kurt wiggles a little, like he’s trying to burrow into the mattress, Finn, and Puck, all at the same time, and exhales heavily. Puck has a crooked little smile on his face, like he’s dreaming about a trick he’s just pulled on someone, or something like that, his ‘I’m up to something’ face. They’re so beautiful, just so fucking beautiful, and perfect, and _here_.

Finn can’t stop touching them, running his hands over both of them like they might evaporate or something if he doesn’t give them his complete attention. Finn hears Aud start crying from her room across the hall, then he hears someone walking around and the noise retreats back into their parents’ room. Puck shifts again and blinks. “Huh?”

“It’s ok. It’s just Aud,” Finn whispers. “Mom or Dad got her.”

Puck blinks again, slowly focusing on Finn’s face. “Oh. Right.” He shakes his head and then squints his eyes shut for a moment. “What time is it?”

“Dunno. Early. I’ve been awake for a little while.”

“Hmm.” Puck appears to be thinking for a moment. “Kay. Sleep more?”

“You go back to sleep. I’m probably done. I’m just gonna lay here and, I dunno. Just be glad you’re here with me,” Finn says, snuggling a little closer to Kurt and tightening his grip across the both of them. 

Puck sort of half-grins as his eyes start to close again. “M’glad I’m not making coffee.”

Finn laughs quietly. “I bet. You can sleep, I’ll let you alone.”

“’Night, darling,” Puck mutters, already mostly asleep.

“Mmm,” Finn sighs. “’Night, Puck.”

Finn tries to be quiet and still, he really does. He lies there, just listening to Kurt and Puck breathe, and works very hard on being both still and quiet. Finally, though, he gives up on still entirely, deciding quiet’s probably enough, right? Very quietly, he curls around Kurt and starts kissing him on the back of his neck, down to the vertebrae where his neck meets his shoulders, and he kisses that, too, also quietly. He kisses, extremely quietly, along Kurt’s shoulder, feeling the silky skin against his lips. Quietly, Finn slides his hand over to Kurt’s hipbone again, petting it in little circles, then the soft skin on the tops of Kurt’s thighs. 

Kurt’s head moves in an arc, and his leg straightens, like Finn’s pushed some kind of button, and then his lips start moving, eyes closed. “Mmmsquishedgood.”

“Hey,” Finn whispers into Kurt’s ear. “Sorry I woke you. I was trying to be quiet.” He keeps stroking Kurt’s thigh, sliding his hand a little higher with each movement. 

“S’not noisy,” Kurt responds, one eye cracking open. “S’touchy.”

“I can stop and let you sleep more. I already told Puck to go back to sleep.”

“Like our Finnblanket.”

“Yeah, I’m a good blanket. There’s enough of me, anyway,” Finn says, laughing a little. “Just needed to touch you some.”

“Mmkay.” Both of Kurt’s eyes flutter open and he smiles sleepily. “Where you need to touch?”

“Everywhere,” Finn says, sliding his hand up more, until he’s just touching Kurt’s cock. He wraps his fingers around it loosely, stroking Kurt a few times. “Here.”

“Yeah?” Kurt blinks a few times, obviously waking up more fully. “Tell me what you need.”

Finn presses his face against Kurt’s shoulder. “I need you. Inside me,” he whispers.

“Ohh.” There’s a pause, and then Kurt nods. “Yes, you do.” He says it definitively, running his hand down Finn’s back and across his entrance. “Tell me more.”

Finn keeps his face pressed against Kurt’s shoulder. “I just need you. I just need to feel you. Kurt, I just… I just need you inside me.”

“Mmm. Who else gets to be inside you, darling?”

“You. Just you. Nobody else.”

“That’s right.” Kurt’s voice is smug, no other word for it. He squeezes one side of Finn’s ass with his hand. “Just ours. No one else’s.” Kurt turns his gaze to lock with Finn’s and then presses their lips together, hard, Kurt’s tongue insistent and demanding against Finn’s lips. Finn just melts under Kurt’s kiss, cheeks still hot, letting Kurt’s tongue force his lips open. Kurt’s finger slips inside Finn, still dry, moving slowly and carefully. 

Finn gasps into Kurt’s mouth, pushing back a little against Kurt’s finger without even thinking about it. “Oh,” he breathes. “Please. _Please_ , Kurt.”

Kurt obliges, steadily moving his finger further inside Finn. “Please what?”

Finn squirms a little, rocking his hips. It burns, but it feel so good, and it’s not enough. “Kurt, _please_. I need you, I need you.”

“Yes, you do, you do, darling,” Kurt says softly. “You need to feel me, don’t you? Need me to stretch you out, fill you up, make it burn?”

Finn shivers. He feels pressure in his chest, like a sob building, and he just wants more of Kurt inside him. “Yes. Kurt, please, be inside me.” Kurt nods against him and his finger slides out of Finn before Finn can feel the head of Kurt’s cock at his entrance. 

“I know,” Kurt murmurs soothingly. “I know.” Kurt pushes inside of Finn in one long, slow movement, and Finn hadn’t noticed that Kurt grabbed the lube, but, he realizes, he also didn’t notice Kurt had pushed him onto his back. It’s so good, so good, Finn closes his eyes and feels Kurt inside him, so good. Kurt stills when he’s fully inside Finn, looking down at Finn calmly. “Like that? Do you want me to move?”

“God, Kurt, yes, _move_ ,” Finn says, wrapping one of his legs around Kurt’s hips. “Please, just be inside me.”

“I’m right here,” Kurt murmurs, moving slowly. “Right here, Finn. Feel me inside you, darling.”

Kurt’s slow movements gradually start to increase in speed, and Finn grips the sheet underneath himself with one hand, the other splaying across Kurt’s back, Kurt’s hand wrapping around the back of Finn’s thigh. Kurt leans forward and kisses Finn in the middle of his chest, and as Kurt rises back up, Finn sees the look on his face. It’s just so _Kurt-like_ and then Kurt shifts his angle a little and starts pushing hard and fast into Finn, pounding into him. Finn’s head falls back against the pillow and he bites down hard on his lip to stay quiet.

Finn’s biting his lip so hard that he tastes blood, but he still can’t stop the sounds from coming out of him, and he’s so close already. Kurt inside him, Kurt touching him, Finn’s so close, so fucking close that he thinks it’s possible he might die waiting for Kurt to tell him.

There’s an agonizing pause, while Kurt seems on the verge of saying it, but he holds back, his face almost too calm, and Finn digs his fingers into Kurt’s back hard, not able to control the noises he’s making. Kurt whispers the words, barely audible, at last. “Come now, Finn.”

Finn’s whole body shudders and he comes and comes all over Kurt’s hand. He can hear himself making some kind of sound, and it’s loud, and he doesn’t even _care_ , because oh, _fuck_. Kurt’s still moving inside him, hand clutching at Finn’s thigh, until he empties himself into Finn, biting down on his lip. Another warm body collides with Finn, Puck rolling over in his sleep and pressing against Finn’s side with a sleepy sigh. 

Kurt drapes himself over Finn, kissing him softly. “Better, darling?”

“So much better,” Finn says. He touches Kurt’s face with one of his fingers, wanting to say things he’s not sure he’s supposed to say. He settles for kissing Kurt one more time. “Sleep more?”

“Mmmkay.” Kurt shifts a little and closes his eyes. “Good idea.”

Finn snuggles in between Kurt and Puck. “Yeah, I’m getting a lot smarter at college.”

There’s a faint answering laugh. “Okay.”

Finn’s pretty sure Kurt’s already asleep again, even as he’s talking. Kurt’s sprawled mostly on top of him, an arm reaching out to touch Puck, and Finn realizes how much he’s missed the one-on-one time with either of them. He can’t blame them for making the decision to choose being a couple over trying to maintain some kind of perfect balance between the three of them. There’s no way it _could_ be balanced, and that’s not because Finn’s in Madison; it can’t be balanced because they have to keep everything about their relationship with Finn a secret. _Finn_ is keeping everything a secret, to the point of not even thinking about some of it himself. 

The cop-out of “I don’t know who I am, I don’t know what I am, and I’m not going to think about it too deeply because everything is working how it is” really is just an excuse. The truth is, Finn is just as much in a closet as Puck ever was; he just didn’t let himself see it. 

 

Noah wakes up slowly, Kurt almost crushed into his side and a fair amount of empty bed on his other side. There’s sunlight sneaking into the room now, even past the closed curtains, and Noah yawns. He probably can’t put off waking for another few hours this time. 

He turns on his side and runs a finger down Kurt’s nose, then moves his gaze to Finn, wondering if he really did stay awake. His eyes are closed, though, and Noah’s pretty sure his breathing is even enough to indicate he’s asleep. Noah grins at the two of them and shakes his head a little, dropping a kiss on Kurt’s forehead before he slides out of bed and pads into the bathroom. 

When he gets out of his admittedly quick shower, Kurt’s sitting on the edge of the bed, blinking blearily. “Morning.” 

“Morning,” Kurt yawns. “God, what time is it?”

Noah shrugs. “Not sure. Late enough to feel draggy, early enough that I still smell bacon.”

“Mmm. Okay.” Kurt stretches and stands up, then steps close to Noah, wrapping his arms around him. “He woke me up earlier. I don’t know. I hope it helped.”

“Mmm.” Noah nods and returns the embrace. “How are _you_?”

“Never any pleasure in being right,” Kurt laughs a little, but it’s forced and sad. “I hate that we were right.”

“Yeah.” Noah tilts Kurt’s chin towards him and kisses him softly. “Tell me later?”

Kurt smiles, just barely. “Naked storytime?” he asks, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“A highlight of the week.”

“I swear, you’re going to be fifty-five and just as enthusiastic.”

“I _hope_ so.”

Kurt laughs. “I’m going to shower now, baby.”

“Okay.” Noah kisses him a second time. “Should be plenty of hot water still. Can’t guarantee the same about the bacon if you take too long.”

Kurt laughs again and walks into the bathroom, and Noah squats down next to his bag, pulling out fresh clothes and starting to pull them on. He reaches for his shirt as Finn mumbles, “Hmm? What?” 

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Huh?” Finn rubs his face and sits up, squinting. “Is it for real morning now?”

“I smell bacon. Also, there’s an incandescent mass of plasma in the sky.”

“Oh, shit. That sounds bad. Not the bacon part. The plasma thing.”

“The sun.” Noah grins. “The sun is a mass of plasma.”

“I thought plasma was blood, dude,” Finn says, blinking a few times like he’s slowly processing a thought or two. “It’s not blood?”

“It’s blood, too. But the sun’s not made of blood, because that’d be weird.” Noah shrugs. Finn makes a face like he’s thinking that over, then he nods his head once. 

“Yeah, it would be,” Finn agrees.

“Kurt’s in the shower,” Noah tells Finn, sitting down on the bed next to him. “He can’t—” Noah stops, trying to collect his thoughts. “He can’t go back and forth, you know? He’s got most of the world fooled into thinking he’s always got everything under control, but we know better.”

“Ok,” Finn says slowly, a look of confusion crossing his face. “I’m… not really sure what we’re talking about now.”

“Earlier,” Noah says. “Just, there’s a reason for the package deal thing, and.”

“Ohhh, ok, yeah,” Finn says. “Yeah, I wasn’t even thinking about that. I mean, you were right there, even, and I just kinda got caught up in it. I didn’t think about the package deal thing. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Noah shrugs. “It’ll be fine.” He runs his hand over his face, trying to redirect his thoughts. “Anyway. What about _you_?”

“What about me?” Finn shrugs. “I feel like I’ve been on a roller coaster for the last two weeks, and I don’t know if it’s gonna keep going or stop on top of a hill or, like, I’m gonna go around some curve and the track’s gonna just be gone or something.”

“Hmm.” Noah reaches for his boots, pulling them on almost absently. “It’ll slow down. I mean, I don’t know, either, but.”

“I feel like I can’t turn off my brain, dude. It keeps going through this crazy loop of thoughts and I can’t put anything in order or make sense out of it, or, I dunno,” Finn shrugs again. “Maybe I’m scared to make sense out of it. Jesus, that sounds stupid.”

“Preaching to the choir. Seriously.” Noah shakes his head. “Sometimes you just have to ride it out. I mean, you can try to interrupt it and stop it, but that doesn’t always work.”

“What’s the timeline supposed to be? ’Cause I’d like to just go ahead and, I dunno. Either make it make sense or just… is there another option? Is there a _not_ making sense option where I just go on about my business and don’t think about it too hard?” Finn looks pitifully hopeful.

“I don’t know of one that doesn’t involve illegal substances or activities,” Noah says easily. “And sorry, everyone’s timeline is different.” Noah shrugs. “Not surprising, though, you’ve got practices and games and a full load of classes plus rehearsals and shit.”

“Yeah, there’s not a lot of thinking time in there, I guess,” Finn says. “I kinda need _time_ to get my brain spun up, I think. I don’t exactly jump right into the deep thoughts. Still…”

“I was talking to Ben back in May, I think. I said something about going for a run, because my brain was full. Finals were coming up, whatever. And Ben’s all, oh, yeah, I get my best thinking in while I run. And I just stared at him because, you know, running’s what _I_ do when I do not want to think at all. So my guess is, you’re doing a lot of things that keep you from thinking.”

“Some of ’em on purpose.”

Noah chuckles. “I hear that.” He nudges Finn’s shoulder. “Remember the big slide on the playground?”

“I remember.”

“Pretend we’re up there.”

“I don’t think we’d fit up there, now, dude.”

“Hence the pretend part of the sentence.”

Finn tilts his head to the side a little, thinking. “Hmm. Yeah, ok, but it’s gotta be an even swap. I tell you something, you tell me something.”

“Okay.”

“Well, so…” Finn says, and his face goes deliberately blank in that way Noah knows means Finn’s about to crack up and is trying not to. “So, I’m pretty sure I’m not straight.”

“Um.” Noah laughs for a few seconds. “I had kinda figured that one out.”

“Shut up, dude. It’s a process. I’m processing,” Finn says, but the blank face cracks and he grins widely. “I’m getting there, ok?”

“Okay.” Noah grins back. “Just most people do the processing before the acting on it, you know.”

“Yeah, but most people don’t have you guys.”

“While we are particularly awesome, I’m not sure that’s adequate.”

Finn shrugs. “I don’t know. You guys just always made sense, so I didn’t think about the rest of it too much.”

Noah huffs a short laugh. “Some people are good at thinking, like Kurt. Then there’s the rest of us.”

“I just always thought this kind of stuff would be easier to figure out, is all.”

“For whom? C’mon, dude, it even took Kurt until sophomore year to tell _Burt_.”

“But, I mean, I think he already knew. I don’t even _know_. I need someone to like, I dunno. Tell me what I am so that I can just have it figured out. Maybe Syd’ll do it. I’ll just go back to UW and be all, ‘Hey Syd, tell me what I am’. She’d _love_ that,” Finn snorts.

Noah laughs. “You want a letter?”

Finn shrugs. “Maybe? Do I _have_ a letter? Do I get a letter if it’s just you guys and not, like, every guy? I don’t even know, dude. It’s really confusing.”

“There’s straight people who are only ever with one person, but they’re still straight,” Noah points out. “You want my opinion?”

“I don’t know, dude, do I?” Finn looks at Noah askance. 

“Um, I just asked you if you did,” Noah points out. “I don’t know if you really do or not.”

“Ok. Sure, yeah. I think, anyway.”

Noah shrugs. “P.”

“Dude, that’s not cool. That’s not even in the soup.”

“It is!” Noah protests. “It’s just like, mixed in with some others, under Q.”

“So I’m a P and a Q?” Finn scrunches up his face. “Wait, what’s the P?”

“Pansexual.”

“If I’m a P and a Q, does this mean you have to mind me?”

“No, it means we have to keep tabs on you.”

“Oh. Well, but you do that anyway,” Finn says. “Hmm. Ok, I’m gonna think about those letters a little while, I think. But definitely P and not B?”

“Yeah. You’ve never really focused that much on the outside stuff, dude. Ever.”

Finn looks thoughtful for a moment, then nods. “Yeah, like they said at the QSA that one time. ‘P means people, not parts’, right?”

Noah grins. “Yeah, that makes sense.” He shrugs. “My turn?”

“Definitely your turn. My turn was a big deal.”

“I have no idea what I’m going to do in two and a half years. Like, you’re supposed to go to college and then get a job or a graduate degree. Look at you. Psychology, and you do psychology or go to grad school and then do psychology. Kurt, he’ll go to auditions. Allison’s planning on getting her PhD and teaching composition. I… I don’t even know what I’m supposed to look at.”

“Well, what do you _want_ to do?” Finn asks.

“Write music.” Noah grins. “Just, you know. There aren’t a lot of places paying people to sit around and write whatever the hell they want to write.”

“There’s gotta be some place, though. Your music is so awesome!”

“Some people end up working for like, ad agencies or record labels, shit like that. I just – that stuff’s so _boring_. Not enough instruments. Not enough stuff to play with.”

“Yeah, I can’t see you writing jingles for, like, Hot Pockets or whatever, dude. So, what then? I mean, if you could do anything, what kind of stuff do you want to write?” Finn asks. 

“Hmm.” Noah looks towards the closed bathroom door, hearing the shower cut off. “You know we still write stuff together.” Finn nods. “You remember what Kurt was working on, summer before senior year?”

“His musical about that lady in England with the crazy hat.”

Noah laughs. “Well, yeah, luckily we’ve sort of abandoned Pippa as the subject matter.”

“That’s good,” Finn says, nodding his head. “I don’t think she’s, you know. That thing. The culturally thing.”

“Not so much anymore,” Noah agrees, and then looks up as Kurt walks in. “Hey. I was telling Finn about our secret plans to take over the world. Or, well, Broadway.”

“I knew it!” Finn says. “ _That’s_ the gay agenda!”

Kurt laughs as he unzips his luggage. “You figured us out,” he agrees. “Which one, Noah?”

“There’s more than one musical about the crazy hat lady?”

“None about the crazy hat lady,” Kurt admits with a sigh, pulling on his pants. “But there is more than one musical.” He picks up a sweater and an undershirt and walks over, sitting down next to Noah. “Did you tell him about this afternoon yet?”

“Oh, damn. No, forgot.”

“Is there a musical this afternoon?” Finn looks confused.

“No. Well.” Noah shrugs. “I guess there _could_ be, but I don’t think so. Anyway. I emailed Shelby after we bought our tickets, and one of her private students is performing this afternoon or something, so we were gonna go hang with Beth. If you want to come.” Noah grins. “We can also see the latest permutation of New Directions perform at Invitationals.”

“Holy shit,” Finn says, looking a little overwhelmed. “You… you’re gonna let me meet Beth?”

“Yeah.” Noah shrugs. “She knows Kurt has a brother named Finn.”

“She knows my _name_?” 

Noah laughs. “Yeah, she does. She has that picture of the three of us with Hannah, remember Hannah’s birthday?”

“Yeah, I love that picture,” Finn says. 

“Aunt Hann,” Kurt says with a laugh. “That girl is a character.”

“Of course she is,” Noah grins. “Shelby said she’d make sure Beth was dressed to your specifications, by the way.”

“Good.” Kurt returns the grin, then leans across Noah and pokes Finn’s bicep. 

“Hey! Sharp fingers!”

“Go shower so we can bacon.”

“I can’t shower after bacon?” Finn asks.

“No.” Noah shakes his head. “Have you smelled you?”

Finn sniffs at himself a little. “What? Do I smell bad?”

“You smell like a brothel,” Kurt points out with a little smile. “Just like we did.”

“Yeah, but I like when you smell like that,” Finn shrugs. “Ok. I’ll shower. I don’t want to smell all brothel-y.” 

“Good. Now hurry, we’re hungry,” Noah insists.

Finn rolls his eyes and hops up out of bed, hurrying into the bathroom. Within a couple of minutes, the water’s running and Finn’s singing. Noah shakes his head. “Finn’s still singing in the shower, so it’s still not the apocalypse.”

“Which is good.” Kurt leans his head on Noah’s shoulder. “Good talk?”

“Yeah.” Noah laces his fingers with Kurt’s. “Good shower?”

“Mmmhmm. We’re a good team.”

“We are,” Noah agrees. “Scarily good.”

They sit in easy silence until Finn returns, still dripping a little, and starts rummaging through his bag for clothing. He pulls out a Wisconsin T-shirt and a pair of underwear, pulling them on and then adding the jeans from the previous day. “Less brothel-y?”

“Yep!” Noah grins and Kurt laughs as they stand up. “Bacon time.”

 

“That a herd of elephants?” Burt calls out as the three of them thud down the stairs. 

“Bacon-eating elephants!” Kurt replies as they reach the bottom and walk into the kitchen. “Morning, Dad. Morning, Carole.” He turns and grins at Audrey. “Hey, Audrey!”

Audrey grins at him. “Bububub!”

“See, I _told_ you she’s saying ‘brothers’ now!” Finn says. “Hey, Aud!”

“You get all three of us at once today!” Kurt drops into the seat to the left of Audrey’s high chair. “Three brothers! Can you say ‘three’?”

Finn leans over and wraps his arms around Carole in a huge bear hug. “Hey, Mom!”

“Hi, sweetie!” Carole tries to return the hug and Kurt stifles a giggle at her efforts. “Did you sleep well?”

Finn’s face is a picture of guilt behind Carole’s head. “Yeah, I slept great!” he says, bracingly. “Just great!”

“Good, good. I’ve almost got this next batch of waffles ready, boys.”

“Thanks, Carole,” Noah says, sitting down next to Kurt. 

“Yes! Waffles!” Finn does a victory fist. 

“You told us that there were waffles in Wisconsin, but I’m starting to doubt it,” Kurt muses, holding out his hand absently for Audrey to grab. “Ooh, you’re sticky, little girl.”

“Mom-waffles are the best waffles,” Finn says, handing Kurt a napkin automatically. 

“I think he needs more like a hose, dude,” Noah says, and Kurt laughs. 

“She is covered,” Kurt agrees. “Did you already eat a whole batch of waffles on your own, Audrey? Did you eat your daddy’s waffles, too?”

“Kid’s a nut for waffles,” Burt says, shaking his head at Audrey. “Must come from the Hudson side of the family.”

“Definitely the nut part,” Kurt says sweetly. “No offense, Carole.”

Carole laughs. “None taken.”

“Bububub! Bububub!” Audrey squeals again, banging her spoon against the high chair. 

“We’re exciting.” Noah laughs and passes the plate of bacon to Kurt. 

“Some of us are more exciting than others,” Finn says. 

“Yes, Audrey has exciting brothers,” Burt says, getting up to grab a damp rag from the sink. “Here, exciting brothers. You can help clean her up.” He tosses the rag to Noah. 

“Poor Audrey, stuck with three of us,” Noah laughs, reaching around Kurt and grabbing her hands. “You’re lucky you got up earlier, or there wouldn’t have been any food left for you.”

“I’d never starve my best sister,” Finn says. “But Kurt and Puck totally would, huh, Aud? They’re the _worst_ brothers. I’m the _best_ brother.”

“Bububub!” Audrey squeals, jerking her hand away from Noah, and Kurt laughs. 

“Don’t listen to Finn, Audrey. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. We’ll take you to the American Girl Store, and Toys “R” Us on Times Square, and—”

“Don’t bribe the baby,” Burt says. “She loves all her brothers equally and we don’t have room for any more stuff right now!”

“I don’t even have to bribe her,” Finn answers. “She knows I’m the awesomest.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “She just likes the color red.”

“She’s not a bull, Kurt,” Finn says, shaking his head. 

Carole laughs. “Lately I’m not so sure, sweetie. Wait until you see her toddling around!”

“That’s my girl!” Finn coos at Audrey. “You gonna play football, too? I’m gonna get her a football for Christmas, ok?”

“Better start petitioning Figgins now. Kurt, you can teach her to kick at least.”

Kurt grins. “That’s true. What do you think, Audrey? You want to kick?”

“Nah, she’s my big, tough girl,” Finn says. “Quarterback or bust!”

“Nothing wrong with running,” Noah protests.

“I was thinking more like ballet,” Burt says. “Those little pink dresses, you know?”

“Nothing wrong with ballet and a sport, too,” Kurt says, smiling. “Right, Audrey? You’re going to do everything, aren’t you?”

“Soccer. Ice skating, maybe,” Burt suggests. “Softball.”

“Wear lots and lots of layers,” Kurt says sagely. “Ice skating is cold.”

“She should wear lots of layers anyway,” Finn says. “Because of _boys_.”

“Or girls,” Kurt says, a little too sweetly. “You never know.”

“Boys, really,” Carole says, shaking her head. 

“Moooom!” Finn groans. “I didn’t even _say_ anything!”

“Alphabet soup,” Noah says with a grin, and Kurt shakes his head, squeezing Noah’s leg under the table. Finn mock-glares at Kurt and points, but doesn’t say anything.

“So, what do you boys have on your agenda today?” Burt asks. 

“This afternoon we’re going over to McKinley, believe it or not,” Kurt answers, shrugging slightly. “We should meet up for dinner.”

“Old Barn?” Burt suggests. “I can give Rina a call.”

“That sounds good,” Kurt agrees, nodding slightly. “Six-thirty?”

“Sounds great to me. When you guys heading out tomorrow? We can figure out some breakfast or lunch plans for everyone, too.”

“Our flight’s… nine?” Kurt guesses, and looks at Noah to confirm. 

Noah nods. “Yeah, we fly out of O’Hare at nine, so I guess we should leave here, what? Three?”

Finn nods. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to push it any later than that.”

“Sorry it’s so late, Finn,” Kurt says apologetically, “but the time we booked it, the only other flight left at 5.”

“Hey, no, I don’t mind,” Finn says. “Seriously. Gives me some extra time with you guys and the drive from Chicago to Madison isn’t that bad.”

“I for one appreciate it, sweetie,” Carole says. “It’s so nice to have all of you home again! But I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving, still.”

“Would it be ok if I brought Syd with me this year?” Finn asks. “She doesn’t really, you know, go home.”

“Syd,” Noah says, nodding. “Bring Syd.”

“Of course!” Carole answers. “Right, Burt?”

“Right, what’s one more? Bring her, that’ll be fine.”

“Can you still grab us in Chicago?” Kurt asks Finn, frowning a little. “We can probably switch airports or rent a car, if not.”

“Nah, nah, we’ll make it work. I’ll rent something bigger if I have to, but Syd’ll probably want to drive, anyway. She says my driving is ‘uncomfortably macho’ and that I have questionable lane changing abilities.”

“Poor Syd, stuck with three twenty-year-old boys for hours,” Noah laughs. 

“Syd likes being stuck with me!”

“We can sing for her.” Kurt absently holds his hand out for Audrey to grab, but instead she gives him five, and he grins at her.

“That’s my girl!” Finn chirps. “Hi fives, Audie-Aud!” He puts his hand up, too, and Audrey presses her palm to it. “Hey, can we take Aud with us today?”

“You’ll have to take my car, honey, but sure.” Carole exchanges a look with Burt. “If that’s okay?”

“Kurt drives,” Burt says, firmly.

Kurt knows he’s smirking as he nods, but he doesn’t say anything out loud, at least. “You’ll send us with some snacks?” Noah asks. 

“I’ll sit in the back with Aud and we’ll eat her snacks!” Finn says, then he stage whispers, “Or we’ll stop and get you some _french fries_ , Aud!”

“We will not.” Kurt looks at him sternly and then grins. “We’ll get her ice cream.”

“Ice cream, Aud! Give Kurt more high fives!”

“As the driver, I am morally obligated not to change the poopy diapers.”

“Or is it just that we’re morally obligated not to make you?” Noah teases.

“Whatever, you know I always change them. It’s my _job_ ,” Finn says, rolling his eyes. “Mom, will you give me Aud’s carrier thingy? I’ll wear her on my back!”

“Okay. Just be careful.” Carole nods a little. “She’s pretty used to getting back there, though.”

“You’re going to come on an adventure, Audrey,” Kurt says with a grin. “You think you can keep us under control?”

 

“Is she okay back there?” Kurt asks, and Noah wants to laugh, because Audrey’s been on Finn’s back for maybe 90 seconds and Kurt’s asked at least three times. 

“Ok back where?” Finn says, turning in a circle. “Oh, shit! Where’d that baby come from?”

“Shit!” Audrey parrots. “Shit shit!”

Noah laughs. “Dude. You taught your sister to curse.”

“Mom’s gonna be _pissed_ ,” Finn says. “Maybe I’ll tell her Aud’s trying to say ‘sit’.”

“Bububub shit!”

“See? She’s telling us to go sit down,” Finn insists. “She thinks we look tired.”

“We _are_ tired,” Noah answers almost absently as he looks around the courtyard. “Oh, hey, there they are.” He takes a few steps towards Shelby and Beth, Kurt beside him, before Beth spots him. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” She trots over to them and Noah picks her up with a grin. 

“Hey Bethie. How’s my girl?”

“Good!”

“Yeah?” Noah kisses her forehead. “I want you to meet somebody. You remember your picture? Of Daddy and Aunt Hannah and Uncle Kurt, and Uncle Kurt’s brother Finn?”

Beth nods, grinning, and she turns towards Kurt, waving. “Hi!”

“Hi, Beth.” Kurt grins back. “You want to meet my brother?”

“Yes!”

“Beth, this is Finn.” Noah turns her towards Finn and Audrey. “And that baby is their little sister.”

“Hi. Hi baby.”

Finn blinks a little, his mouth hanging open. “She looks _just like you_ ,” he says to Noah, quietly, then louder, “Hey, Beth! Nice to meet you! This stinky baby back here is Aud. You want to say hi to her?”

“Hi baby!” Beth says again, smiling. “Odd?”

Finn takes a knee in front of Beth, so Audrey is close enough to look at her. “Well, her name is Audrey, but I think that’s a big name for a tiny girl, so I call her Aud. Aud, this is Beth. Beth, this is Aud.”

“I’m a BIG girl!” 

Noah laughs. “Yes, you are. You’ve gotten big since the summer!” He takes her hand as she reaches out her other one to touch Audrey’s hand. “You like preschool?”

“I love it!” Beth looks up and beams at him. “Did you go to preschool, Daddy?”

“Um.” Noah tries to think. “Yeah? I think so. You know something? I met Finn here when I was just seven.”

“Yup. I knew your daddy when he was little. Do you do high fives? Aud likes high fives,” Finn says. At ‘high fives’, Audrey starts waving her hand around at Beth. 

Beth giggles and tries to give Audrey a high five, missing the first time as Audrey moves her hand around. “We’re going to listen to singing!”

“Oh, cool! Us, too!” Finn grins at Beth. “You wanna sit next to Aud?”

Beth looks at him thoughtfully. “Babies cry a lot. I’ll sit with Daddy and Uncle Kurt.”

“Okay, munchkin. You want to go inside now?” Noah asks, and Beth nods, grabbing Kurt with her other hand. 

They walk inside, an odd procession, and they’ve just bought their tickets from some kid that doesn’t, in Noah’s opinion, look old enough to be in high school, when Noah hears someone call out, “Kurt? Kurt Hummel?”

They all turn their heads, even Beth and Audrey, which is pretty funny, and Noah has to stare at the owner of the voice for a minute before it hits. “ _Casey_?” While Casey’s not really much taller, he’s definitely more muscular, and his now-shoulder length hair looks like it has highlights in it. Noah’s pretty sure Casey didn’t actually get _highlights_ though, so it’s probably a combination of swimming and sun. 

“Oh, _wow_! _Puck_!” Casey says, bouncing in place. “Finn! And… small people!”

“This is our sister, Audrey, Aud,” Finn says. “You look different.”

“Um. Thanks?” Casey gives Finn an odd look. “David said you said hey.” He blushes a little, probably because he mentioned Karofsky, but who knows. “Who’s that girl? Is that your sister, Puck? She looks like you!”

Noah huffs out a laugh, shaking his head, and he can see Kurt sort of biting his lip. “No, Hannah’s ten. This is Beth. Beth, this is Casey.”

“Hi!” Beth looks up at Noah. “Is he going to watch singing too, Daddy?”

Casey’s eyes widen and his eyebrow shoot up. “Oh. _Oh_! Wow, um, hi, Beth! Yeah, I’m going to watch singing. My friends Taylor and Alicia are singing today. You guys remember Taylor and Alicia, right?”

Noah nods. “Yeah. Beth’s mom teaches voice lessons, so Beth’s gonna sit with us while Shelby listens a little more closely to her students or whatever. Right, Beth?”

“Right!” Beth grins. “Daddy lives in New York!”

“I know! I have his address in my phone,” Casey says. “Do you, um. Like singing?”

“Uh-huh. Mommy teaches singing. She says I’ll be music-cline.”

“Neat! I’m a terrible singer. Your daddy is a really great one, though, and um,” Casey looks at Kurt and raises one shoulder in a slight shrug. Kurt mouths ‘Uncle Kurt’ over Beth’s head with a slight smile. “And Uncle Kurt, too. Oh, and the big giant guy with the baby on him, too!”

“Dat’s Finn and Odd!”

Casey giggles. “Yeah. That is!”

“So how’s McKinley?” Noah asks. “Same as ever?”

“Better every year, actually. PFLAG’s meeting every week now! Oh, and Aunt Shannon got some kind of award thing, I don’t remember what it’s called, but it’s for excellence in football coaching,” Casey says. He makes a face like he’s searching for other news. “Oh, and Rick, you remember Rick? He’s being scouted by some schools, I think he’s probably going to be a Buckeye, oh! And I think he’s going to end up marrying Alicia.”

Noah laughs. “That’s great.” 

“Miles isn’t sure he thinks so,” Casey says, grinning.

“I’m sure,” Kurt answers, laughing. “I’d say poor Brown, but well.” Kurt shrugs.

“Miles is not at the top of some people’s lists of very favorite people,” Casey says. “It’s true. But you guys, all of you! How are you doing? Is everything, um. Is it all going well?” He gives Finn another odd look, or the same one a second time, at least. 

“Uh, yeah.” Noah nods. “You know. Pretty good.”

“It’s fine, Casey,” Finn says, shaking his head. “I knew Karofsky would tell you. I pretty much told him he could. Everything’s cool. Seriously, it’s fine.”

“ _Oh_! Oh, okay, good. Well, that’s good!” Casey smiles nervously. “I thought maybe, you know, David just said that. Um, because of the woodchipper.”

“The woodchipper?” Kurt furrows his brow. “What woodchipper?”

“The woodchipper I was planning to stuff Perez Hilton into,” Casey says, scowling. “Somebody should.”

“Ohh,” Kurt nods understandingly. “I was going to hold him down and Noah was going to pulverize his face.”

“I was gonna start with his arms, then his legs, and then just shove the whole rest of him in there. Just like…” Casey makes a noise that’s probably meant to sound like a woodchipper chopping up Perez Hilton, and his smile is almost disturbingly joyful. “Then David told me, you know. Wasn’t him. Still. Woodchipper!”

“Yeah, probably a good call on Karofsky’s part, Casey,” Finn says. “Pretty sure the woodchipper thing would land you at least a little time, though… Kurt, you think maybe it could be considered a mercy killing?”

“He had it coming,” Kurt deadpans. 

“Shit!” Audrey announces from behind Finn’s head. “Bububub shit!”

“That’s right, Aud,” Finn says. “Definitely.”

Beth giggles. “Daddy, Odd said a bad word.”

“Uh.” Noah glares at Finn. “No, she said _sit_. She wants us to go watch the singing now.”

“Babies say all kinds of words wrong,” Finn says, nodding. 

“Yeah, we should go sit,” Casey agrees. “Good to see you guys, though. Seriously! Oh, that was an _awesome_ game last week, Finn!”

“Thanks, dude,” Finn says. “Tell Coach and Monty hey for me, will ya? Might try to come by and see her over Thanksgiving.”

“I will!” Casey says, bounding off in the direction of the seats. 

Noah, Kurt, and Finn exchange glances, and after a few seconds, Finn starts to laugh and says, “Well, he seems like he’s doing alright.”

“Yeah, I get an email from him every couple of months,” Noah says with a nod. “Taylor’s ex-girlfriend Maci apparently works at Starbucks now, that kind of thing. Good to know we managed to make some kind of difference, I guess.”

They find seats near the back, at the end of a row, Audrey sitting on Finn’s lap and Beth perched on the seat between Kurt and Noah. Beth bounces a little bit. “Lots of singing?”

“Yep, lots of singing,” Noah agrees. “When you and Mommy come to New York again, you can see Uncle Kurt sing, okay?”

“Okay!”

“And your daddy,” Kurt adds. “And there will be lots of lights decorating the city, more than usual.”

“Is it pretty?”

“It is very pretty,” Kurt says solemnly. 

The lights go dim and Mr. Schue walks out onto the stage, looking the same as ever, and announces New Directions, which is good, because then they can head out to the lobby or outside or wherever if the little girls get tired of sitting. 

The curtain goes up, and there’s a good twenty kids or so on the stage, which is pretty impressive. Noah recognizes Taylor and Alicia and a little over half of the others. Some of the others look tiny and like middle schoolers more than high schoolers, so Noah decides they must be the new freshmen. 

“Some of those kids look really _small_ ,” Finn whispers. 

“I think they forgot the fertilizer in the lunch food this year,” Noah responds. 

“We weren’t ever that small,” Finn says.

“ _You_ weren’t,” Noah chuckles. “Pretty sure the rest of us were.”

“Kurt still was sophomore year.”

“Some of us do puberty later. But better.” Kurt sniffs. 

“You did puberty just fine, dude,” Finn says.

“What’s pewwbertwee?”

“Geez, stop corrupting my kid.”

“I can’t help it that kids hang on my every word, dude. They just _like_ me.”

“With great power comes great responsibility,” Noah intones.

“Hey Beth, can you say—”

“Beth, would you like to get some candy in the lobby after this?” Kurt cuts Finn off.

“Sure, Uncle Kurt!”

“I was just gonna say ‘I love my daddy’!” Finn says.

“Yeah, right,” Noah scoffs. “Beth, do me a favor? Don’t listen to anything Uncle Finn tells you to do.”

“Uncle Finn? Dude, that’s so _cool_!”

“Okay, Daddy.” Beth grins. 

There’s a lot of applause and Noah honestly isn’t sure what the third song in the set was, but they stand and applaud anyway, then escort the girls out into the lobby. Kurt slips away to buy the promised candy, and Noah and Finn haven’t gone far before they literally bump into Schue. 

“Oh, hey, sorry, Mr. Schue!”

“Oh, no problem— _Puck_? Finn? Hey, guys! What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Mr. Schue! We’re in town ’cause we missed Audie-Aud’s birthday,” Finn says, turning his hip to show show off Audrey, who seems unimpressed. 

“Oh, hey, that’s your little sister! Hey there!” Schue beams at Audrey, who glances once at him before looking at Noah. 

“Shit!”

Schue’s eyes widen and he laughs. “Uh, guys?”

Finn smiles proudly at Audrey. “Yeah, she learned a new word today.”

“Finn Hudson, Corrupter of Children,” Noah says with a roll of his eyes. 

Schue laughs. “And who’s this pretty lady?” he asks, looking at Beth. Finn cocks his head at Schue and stares at him like he’s got a screw loose.

“Hey, yeah, so this is Mr. Schuester, he taught all of us,” Noah says to Beth.

“Shoe?”

“Yeah, close enough. Mr. Shoe. Schue, this is Beth.”

“Beth? Oh. _Oh_. Wow. Hi there, Beth. Wow, you’ve grown!”

“Mr. Schue was there when you were born,” Noah explains to Beth. “Hey, look, there’s your candy!”

“I had to get M&Ms instead of Skittles, is that alright?” Kurt addresses Beth directly. 

“Sure, Uncle Kurt!”

Schue’s eyes widen sort of comically at Beth’s name for Kurt, but he doesn’t say anything. “Oh, hi, Mr. Schue,” Kurt turns to Schue. “The New Directions did really well!”

“Kurt. Hi. I didn’t realize you were here!”

“Yes, Noah and I flew into Chicago and Finn picked us up on his way.”

Schue does that slow nod that says he’s actually really confused. Finn says, “Yeah, it was a bye week, so we thought, you know. I don’t get to see everybody that often.”

“And once I let Shelby know, she said she was planning on coming today, so it was a good chance to see Beth, too.”

“I’m Uncle Finn!” Finn beams at Noah. 

“He’s excited,” Noah says to Schue. “Right, Beth?”

“Right, Daddy!”

Schue looks like he’s considering stroking out right there, he’s so confused. “I think I’m missing something.”

Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Noah and I have had contact with Beth since graduation.”

“Noah and I?” Schue repeats. 

Finn starts to laugh. “Little slow on the uptake, huh?”

“Apparently so!” Schue chuckles a little. “Well, uh. Good to see you boys. Audrey. Beth.”

“Nice to see you, too, Schue,” Noah nods, fighting a smirk. Schue walks off with a distracted wave and Noah laughs. “We confounded him.”

“Definitely,” Kurt agrees, smirking. “Should we try to go back in or just stay out here?”

“I think Aud’s approaching critical mass, so I’m gonna… oh, I don’t know if I can change her in the bathrooms here,” Finn says. 

“Hmm. Take her in Figgins office? It has carpet on the floor at least.” Kurt smiles brightly.

“There’s a pad thing in her bag. I can probably just put her on a table or something, don’t you think?”

“Gotta keep a hand on her the whole time, I think,” Noah shrugs. “Otherwise, yeah, why not?”

“Ok, I’m gonna go find a table. C’mon, Aud, you’re soooo stinky! Peeyoooo!” Finn holds his nose and wanders off with Audrey.

“I’m a big girl. I wear underwear!”

“That’s right.” Noah grins at her. “You’re our big girl, Beth.”

“Do you want to go sit outside to eat your candy?”

“Uh-huh!” She grins and lets them steer her outside, sitting at one of the tables and carefully separating her M&Ms by color. 

Finn appears in the courtyard, a much-happier Audrey fastened on his back again. “One de-stinkied baby!”

“And for you, Audrey, we have the prize of Cheerios.” Kurt stops and makes a face. “The cereal.”

“Just say no to cheerleaders, Aud,” Finn whispers. “Bad news.”

“Mommy says she wants me to play soccer ball.”

“Yeah? When are you going to do that?” Noah grins at her. 

“Next year!” 

“Make sure to let us know when you play, okay?” Kurt smiles. “We’ll try to come see you, and if we can’t, we’ll send you a big good luck sign.”

“Okay.” Beth smiles. “I like you. I like you too, Finn and Odd.”

“Aw, we like you a lot, Beth,” Finn says. “You’re pretty awesome, you know that?”

“Awesome!” Beth grins. “I know.”

Finn snorts. “Yeah, she’s yours, dude.”

“She definitely is,” Kurt agrees, squeezing Noah’s hand. They spend the next ninety minutes or so out in the courtyard, until the doors open and people start spilling out. 

“There’s my girl!” Shelby says with a smile. “Hi, Noah.”

“Hey, Shelby. You remember Finn Hudson?”

“I do. And who’s this little cutie?”

“This is our Aud!” Finn says. “Nice to see you, Shelby. Beth is awesome, did you know that?”

Shelby laughs. “I did. And it’s nice to finally meet you, Audrey.” She looks back at Noah. “Did you have plans for dinner?”

“Oh, yeah. We were going to meet up with my mom and Hannah and their parents,” Noah answers, gesturing at Kurt, Finn, and Audrey. “You want to come? We’re going over to Old Barn.”

Shelby looks thoughtful for a moment, then nods. “Alright, sure. What time?”

“Six-thirty,” Kurt answers for them. “You know the way?”

“I do.” Shelby smiles. “Come on, Beth. We’re going to see Daddy and the others in about an hour, okay?”

Beth frowns. “Can I ride with Daddy?”

“I don’t have a car seat for you,” Noah says apologetically. “But we’ll see you there, okay? And you can see Aunt Hannah?”

“Okay!” Beth smiles again. “I’ll see you there! Bye Daddy! Bye Uncle Kurt!” She giggles. “Bye Odd Finn!”

“Bye, Beth! Audie-Aud, say bye-bye to Beth, ok?” Finn says, and Audrey waves her hand frantically and yells “Byyyyyeeeee!”

Shelby and Beth walk to the parking lot, and Noah turns back to the other three with a shake of his head. Finn has a strange look on his face, and Noah raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“She’s _you_. She’s Hannah, when she was little. I just, I don’t know. I didn’t know it would be like this. I know she looks like you in the pictures but… I mean, she _sounds_ like Hannah. She makes that face you used to make when I’d say something and you thought it was a good idea.” Finn shakes his head. “I’m sorry. My brain’s being all strange or something. I feel like I’m in some kind of bizarre time warp thing.”

Noah half-grins. “Yeah. Sometimes I get an email from Shelby asking if I was that much of a handful. Then I call Mom up and she says ‘No, Noah, you were worse’!”

“You were pretty, uh, exciting when I met you,” Finn says. “We had fun, though. I just had no idea. Pictures don’t even paint a picture, dude. She’s amazing.”

“Yeah.” Noah smiles. “She really is.” He stands up. “Just, you know. Shelby doesn’t have to be so awesome about everything, but she is.”

“I want to send Shelby Christmas presents every year from now on,” Finn says. “Gimme her address. I’m gonna do that.”

“I’ll forward it to you tonight,” Kurt promises, slipping his arm around Noah. “Shall we?”

 

Aud’s just waking up from her nap when they pull up to the Old Barn, and Finn figures that’s good timing, since she usually wakes up pretty grumpy, which is definitely a Hummel thing. “Hey, Audie-Aud. You want to go see mommy now?”

“Mommy,” Aud agrees.

Kurt laughs from the front seat. “They drove your truck, Finn.”

“Guess that means we reached our time limit with Aud, huh?” Finn asks.

“Probably afraid we might teach her bad words,” Puck points out blandly. 

“Don’t _say_ anything! Uncool, dude,” Finn says, glaring at Puck. “It’s ‘sit’, ok? She is saying ‘sit’.”

“Of course she is,” Kurt nods. “Dad’ll totally believe that.”

“He’ll be over it by Thanksgiving,” Finn says. “Then I can teach her something else.”

Aud starts fussing and straining against her car seat straps, so Finn unfastens her and opens his door, arranging her on his hip as he gets out. Puck and Kurt get out of the car, and Puck laughs. “I feel like I should hand you a twenty.”

“That would be strange,” Kurt says, shaking his head and smiling. 

“What? There’s a fare now?” Finn asks.

“Hmm. You _were_ technically the passenger,” Kurt says slowly. “But we’ll let you off the hook for today.”

“I still have fourteen bucks, dude,” Finn says. “That enough to get me back to the house and cover the S-E-X?”

“Hey, I cost more than that!” Puck protests, pretending to be offended.

“I’ll bring an extra fifty next time,” Finn offers, then mouths ‘asshole’ where Audrey can’t see.

Puck rolls his eyes and mouths ‘asshole’ back at him before responding. “Big spender.”

“Not all of us have awesome jobs driving other people’s cars three blocks,” Finn says, with a huge smile. They walk up to the front of the restaurant, where Burt and Carole are already waiting. 

“We’re the first ones here,” Carole announces unnecessarily. “We told them a table for seven and a baby.”

“Better go tell them nine,” Finn says. “We picked up some stragglers!”

“Stragglers?” Carole asks.

“Shelby and Beth,” Puck says, rolling his eyes at Finn. 

“Ok, so they aren’t stragglers. Fine, whatever. Beth is _awesome_ , mom!” Finn hands a wiggly Aud over to Carole. “She looks just like Puck and Hannah did.”

“Ohhh.” Carole beams at Puck. “That’s wonderful!”

“How old is she now? Three?” Burt asks. 

“Three and a half,” Puck nods. “She decided Audrey was ‘Odd’.”

“Well, she _is_ an unusual little girl,” Burt says, patting Aud on the back while she snuggles against Carole. 

“I’m Uncle Finn!” Finn declares proudly. “It’s pretty much the next-best thing ever.”

Rina and Hannah approach them then, and Rina stops in her tracks. “Noah! What is this?”

“What is what, Mom?”

“This, this hair! Your curls!” She reaches up to practically pet them, which Finn thinks is hilarious, because he totally does the same thing. Puck looks like he’s straddling some line between horrified and amused. 

“Knock it off, Mom,” Puck says at the same time Hannah launches herself at him. 

“Noah! What’d you bring me?”

“I didn’t bring you anything, squirt. Just myself.”

“Hey, Hannah,” Finn says. “Ew, you’re uglier than ever. What happened?”

“Noah, why do you have to make me have so many brothers?” Hannah whines before turning back to Finn. “I looked at your face and turned into _stone_.”

Finn throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, _snap_ , Hannah. You’re so mean. Puck is totally the sweet one. You’re just _so_ mean to me all the time.”

“I am the nice one,” Puck agrees. 

They’re interrupted by the loud squeal of “Daddy!” as Beth comes flying across the parking lot, flinging her arms around Puck’s leg. Rina looks shocked, her hand going up to her mouth. 

“Hey, you know better than to run across where cars are,” Puck says, picking Beth up. “You’re going to scare all of us, Beth.”

“Hey, Beth!” Hannah bounds to Puck’s side. 

“Aunt Hann!”

They all three look just alike. Puck and Hannah have always had a strong resemblance, but with Beth in Puck’s arms, it’s almost weird how much the three of them all look alike. Beth’s like a tiny cross between her daddy and her aunt, and Finn can’t see anything of Quinn in her at all. She’s just a tiny Puckerman-looking child. 

“Beth!” Shelby looks sternly at her. “You know better than to run away from me like that!” She shakes her head. “Sorry about that, Noah.”

“It’s okay. We talked about it, didn’t we, Beth?” Beth nods, and she makes that exact same face Puck used to make when an adult corrected him and he had no intention of actually doing anything different than what he was doing, but wanted them to think he would. Tiny little Puck-girl, just the strangest thing ever.

Shelby seems to realize she’s in the middle of a group of people she doesn’t know, and she turns to Rina first. “Hi. I’m Shelby.”

“Rina Puckerman,” Rina says, looking a little woozy, like maybe she’s gonna pass out or tip over or something. Finn realises she’s never met Shelby, and that means she’s probably never met Beth, and how totally disconcerting this whole thing must be for her. 

Shelby smiles at Rina before turning to Burt and Carole, holding her hand out again. “And you must be Kurt’s—and Finn and Audrey’s—parents.”

Burt clasps her hand firmly and shakes it. “I’m Burt Hummel, this is my wife Carole, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you and Beth.”

Puck has this look on his face, like he’s so happy and everything’s exactly like it’s supposed to be, Kurt’s arm around his waist. Finn watches them together and has a brief moment of absolutely hating and resenting the package deal, but it passes quickly enough. They have their life, and he wouldn’t ever try to get in the way of that.

“Well, if this is everybody, we should head on in,” Burt says, after a moment.

“I think it is,” Kurt answers him, and there’s some jostling as they make their way inside and then to a table. There’s some confusion about who’s going to sit where, until Finn finally just plops himself down between Hannah and Aud and declares it the kids’ section. 

“You three _are_ three of the four youngest, little brother,” Kurt laughs, he and Puck sitting down across from Finn, Beth in between them. Finn sticks his tongue out at Kurt, and Beth laughs.

“Very mature, Finn,” Carole says from further down the table.

“They love it!” Finn calls over to her. Kurt looks like he’s gonna choke on something, and Finn offers him a huge smile. “They _miss_ me.”

“Yeah, we miss having someone to _take care of_ ,” Puck shoots back. 

Finn frowns. “Well. Hmm. Yeah, I guess that’s not any fun.” It’s probably not, either, come to think of it.

“Do they buy you presents?” Hannah asks. “I’m hoping Mom will let me go visit in February again.”

This time, Finn’s the one who feels like he’s gonna choke on something. “Uh. Yeah. They bring me stuff sometimes.”

“Cool!” Hannah grins. “I bet it’s ugly, to match your face.”

“Nah, they only bring me awesome stuff, but it’s way too awesome to tell _you_ about, because just you hearing about it would make it less awesome,” Finn counters.

“Noah, how is school?” Rina asks suddenly. 

“It’s good, Mom. Really.”

“And you, Kurt? Finn? School’s going well?”

Kurt just nods, mouth full of water, so Finn answers instead. “It’s pretty great. Lot of stuff to balance between classes and football, but my grades are good.”

“And anyone special?” Rina asks. “Going to bring home any girls anytime soon?”

Finn freezes, then follows Kurt’s example and takes a drink of water before answering. “Uh. No girls to bring home. I’m, uh, I’m still waiting for Hannah to get old enough. Puck said he’d sell her to me for fourteen dollars because of how she’s so ugly.”

Hannah screeches and flings a piece of ice at him, while Rina shakes her head and turns back to the other adults. Finn flicks his straw wrapper at Hannah, studiously not looking at Puck or Kurt. That doesn’t last too long, though, because they’re just honestly the best looking thing at the table, so once Hannah’s bored of throwing ice at him, Finn just sits and watches Puck and Kurt with Beth.

They’re funny together, with Beth sitting there in between them, Kurt fussing with her napkin and cutting up her food, Puck making sure the lid’s on her cup the right way. If she didn’t look exactly like Puck, Finn wouldn’t be able to tell which one of them was the one really related to her, but then, that whole related-to thing’s really just a formality, anyway. Family’s family, however you come by them. 

 

“Night, Dad!” Kurt closes the door behind them and keeps one hand on it, obviously listening to the sound of Burt’s footsteps retreating down the hall. Then he turns the lock with a little click and turns around, smiling. “There.”

“Whatever are we going to do behind a locked door?” Noah asks with a grin, pulling off his boots and shedding his jacket. 

“Take off our clothes!” Finn suggests. 

Kurt laughs and pulls off his sweater. “Not a bad idea.”

“There are definitely worse ones.” Noah takes off his shirt and raises an eyebrow at Finn. “Like this?”

“Well, that’s clothes. Or, a clothes. A clothe? Anyway, it’s only one piece, so I don’t think it counts.”

“Why don’t you show us what you mean, then?”

“I thought you were supposed to be the smart ones,” Finn says, grinning. “Can’t even figure out how to take off your clothes? That’s just sad.” He pulls his T-shirt over his head and chucks it across the room, then unzips his jeans, pulls them off, and chucks _them_ across the room. He stands there in his black boxerbriefs with his hands on his hips like he’s made some kind of point.

“Apparently it involves a lot of throwing,” Kurt teases, sliding his undershirt off and dropping—not throwing—it on the ground. 

“It does seem to.” Noah unfastens his belt and jeans and pushes them off his waist along with his underwear. 

“It’s how you demonstrate that you’re serious about it,” Finn explains. 

“So if I were to do this,” Kurt begins slowly, hands reaching for his waistband, unbuttoning and unzipping in some kind of slow-motion, “what would it demonstrate? That I like to tease?” he suggests, pushing his jeans down over his thighs, inch by inch. 

“Aw, see now? That’s just mean.”

“It’s not teasing if he follows through, Finn,” Noah says with a grin. Kurt just matches the grin, his clothes hovering around his calves now. 

“No, it’s still teasing. It’s just teasing for a shorter period of time,” Finn says.

“You’re not the only one not completely undressed,” Noah laughs. “So maybe you don’t get to talk about teasing.”

“You look good completely undressed.”

“And you… don’t?” Noah asks, a little puzzled. 

“Well, I don’t really care either way about looking at me,” Finn says, shrugging. “Looking at you’s good, though.”

“Looking at him is _very_ good,” Kurt says, stepping from his jeans and running one finger under the waistband of his underwear. “But he does make us seem overdressed.”

“Maybe you two should take care of that problem.”

Finn shrugs again, hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his boxerbriefs, and slides them off in one swift motion. “Better?”

“Yes.” Noah grins and looks at Kurt, who removes his underwear almost as slowly as he did his jeans, biting his lip coyly. 

“Now that we’re all naked,” Kurt says with a little sigh. “We have to find something to do.”

“We could play Euchre,” Finn offers. 

“Naked Euchre?” Noah shakes his head. “Let’s not and say we didn’t.”

“We can’t play strip poker, since we already stripped.”

“Arm wrestle? Freeze tag?”

“Wrestling sounds like a possibility.” Noah laughs. “But maybe not just with our arms.”

“Oh, I don’t think wrestling would be very fair,” Finn says. “I’m pretty sure I outweigh you by at least fifty pounds, and I’m kind of a lot taller than you, and my arms and legs are a lot longer.”

“Depends on the definition of winning,” Kurt says sweetly. 

Finn laughs. “Think we’ve already established I can pin you, dude.”

“That doesn’t mean we didn’t all win.”

Finn shrugs. “I felt like a winner, anyway.”

“You need a button. Finn Hudson: Winner.” Kurt laughs. “Everyone would think it was because of football.”

“I was thinking I could get it tattooed on, like, my chest or my bicep or something. What do you think, is that a look you think I could pull off?”

Noah snickers. “No, dude. You’re not in a gang.”

“I could be. You don’t know. I’m in Wisconsin a lot more than I’m with you, and I could totally be in a gang while I’m there!”

“I didn’t think they _had_ gangs in Wisconsin,” Kurt frowns. “Except for the Cheeseheads.”

“I might be in a cheese-related gang,” Finn says. “Or ice cream. Ooh, or frozen custard. That would be a good gang.”

“Dairy gang. Got it.” Noah shakes his head and flops onto the bed. 

“It could happen,” Finn says, crawling onto the bed next to Noah. “Hey there, you!”

“Could? Sure. Would? As if.” Noah laughs. 

Finn runs his hand over Noah’s hair, pulling at his curls so they sort of spring back. “Yeah, probably not.”

“Aren’t they nice?” Kurt sits down on the bed near their heads, smiling down at both of them. “So soft.”

“Yeah. They feel good. I approve.”

“Good to know,” Noah snorts, but he half-closes his eyes as Finn continues to comb his fingers through Noah’s hair. Kurt puts a hand in each of their hair, twirling a curl around each finger on the hand in Noah’s hair, his other hand just running through Finn’s hair. 

“Such nice boys,” Kurt says softly. 

“Mmm, I’m very nice,” Finn agrees. “Not Puck, though. He’s awful. Very, very bad.”

“Badass,” Noah counters. “Sometimes bad is good.”

“My boys.”

“Yes.”

“Mmhmm.” Finn leans over and kisses Noah on his eyebrow.

Noah grins lazily at both of them. “So. Are we going to keep you warm, blue eyes?”

“Are you?” Kurt asks. “Do you think you can?”

“I think _Puck_ looks cold,” Finn says. “I think we should keep him warm.”

“True,” Kurt says. “Poor Noah, needs help with that.”

“It’s really awful. Poor Puck.” Finn plants a kiss on the corner of Noah’s mouth. 

“’M pitiful,” Noah agrees, stretching a little. “Very pitiful.”

“We’ll have to work on that,” Kurt says softly, leaning over and nibbling at Noah’s ear. “What do you think, Finn?”

“Hmm. I think… Puck sandwich.”

“That would keep him warm,” Kurt agrees. “What do you say, baby?” he whispers in Noah’s ear. 

Noah shivers a little at Kurt’s breath on his ear. “You know, I could get behind that idea.”

Finn snorts. “Yeah, I bet you could.”

“I could get in front of it, too.”

“Boys.” Kurt sighs a little, but he’s obviously trying not to laugh. 

“I know, we’re being too… uh, subtle or whatever,” Finn says. “Hey, Puck. How about you fuck me?” He grins at Noah. 

Noah laughs and grabs Finn’s hand, putting it on his cock. “I don’t know, you ready for this?”

Finn gently squeezes Noah’s cock. “Yeah, I think I can manage.” Finn nuzzles the side of Noah’s face, kissing him on his temple and his cheekbone, before roughly slamming his mouth against Noah’s. Finn’s hand tightens in Noah’s hair as he forces his tongue into Noah’s mouth, and Noah groans a little as his mouth falls open, his tongue sliding along Finn’s. 

Finn slides his mouth down Noah’s chin, forcing his head back so Finn can kiss down Noah’s throat, teeth grazing his skin. Finn moves his hand from Noah’s hair to the back of his neck, leaning Noah up a little while Finn sucks along Noah’s collar bone until it’s peppered with tiny red marks. Finn’s hand presses down Noah’s spine while his mouth keeps traveling down Noah’s chest, carefully taking one of Noah’s nipples between his teeth. “Fuck,” Noah hisses, his body arching towards Finn. Finn responds by biting a little harder and moving his head, the tip of his tongue flicking across Noah’s nipple.

“Ohh, beautiful,” Kurt breathes. “Love watching you two. So good.” There’s a rustling sound and then Kurt presses a bottle into Noah’s hand. “Get him ready for you, Puck.”

“Mmm, yeah, okay,” Noah nods, flipping open the lid and pouring some into his hand. Finn works his mouth across Noah’s chest and starts biting at Noah’s other nipple. Noah trails his hand down Finn’s spine as far as he can, then pokes him once. “Duudde.”

Finn lifts his head and grins, showing all his teeth. “Dude, yourself. I’m working here.”

Noah shakes his head. “You heard the man.”

“Mmm. Yeah. Bossofus,” Finn says. Noah just grunts and pushes on Finn’s chest, and Finn goes with it, letting himself be pushed over until Noah’s got him on his back, and Noah grins, running his fingers close to Finn’s entrance. Finn makes a whiny noise, his body almost shuddering, and his face contorts, the picture of grumpiness. Noah’s grin widens at the sight, and he lets one finger slide just inside Finn. 

“Yeah, like that,” Noah says. “Gonna fuck you.”

Finn whines again, face still grumpy. “Puuuuck!”

“Uh-huh.” Noah pushes his finger farther inside. “Does Kurt need to kiss that pout off your face?”

“Yep,” Finn says, nodding, and Noah shakes his head just a little, slipping a second finger alongside the first. 

“Kurt, would you please,” Noah says, jerking his head towards Finn’s face, and Kurt giggles, leaning over. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Kurt nods, and Noah twitches his fingertips as he watches Kurt press his lips to Finn’s, a little bit of tongue visible. Finn gasps into Kurt’s mouth, his hips lifting off the bed slightly. 

“That’s right,” Noah chuckles, pushing a third finger inside Finn. “Let Kurt make you less grumpy. This might help, too.” He moves his fingers again, brushing against Finn’s prostate as lightly as he can. Finn whimpers, squeezing his eyes closed and Kurt’s mouth looks like it’s pressing harder against Finn’s mouth. Noah works his fingers inside Finn, pulling them almost out and thrusting them back in, over and over. Finn has one hand buried in Kurt’s hair and the other is reaching out in Noah’s direction, but not quite grasping anything, while Finn continues to make little whines. 

“Mmm. Whatcha want?” Noah asks, grinning. 

Finn pulls his mouth away from Kurt’s. “ _Puck_ ,” he whines. “Come _on_!”

“Come on what?”

“Come on and fuck me!”

“What’s the magic word?” Noah asks, and Kurt giggles. 

“Ah, fuck, _pleeeease_ ,” Finn says. “Fucking _please_ , ok?”

“Since you asked so nicely…”

“He’s a good boy,” Kurt interjects. “My good, beautiful boys. You make pretty things for me.”

“Yeah we do,” Noah agrees, slicking himself quickly and starting to push into Finn. “C’mere.” Finn moans and raises his hips to meet Noah. “Look at that, K,” Noah whispers. “Look at him, just taking me inside him.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Kurt responds, leaning against Noah’s shoulder and peering down. “I see it. See you disappearing inside of him. Do you like Puck’s cock, darling?”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Finn says. “Yes, yesss.”

“Tell him,” Kurt commands, because fuck, Noah doesn’t know anyone who could not do whatever Kurt said, not in that voice. “Tell him how much you love it, how good it feels.”

“Oh, god.” Finn lets out a low moan. “It feels good. Puck, god, your cock feels so fucking good.”

“Now I’m going to fuck you,” Noah responds, voice low. “And remember, while I’m fucking you, Kurt’s going to be fucking me, and we’re all going to feel so good.”

“Fuck,” Finn breathes. “Yeah. Mmm. Yes.” He rocks his hips up, pressing against Noah’s side with one of his legs. 

“God, yes, baby,” Kurt says into Noah’s ear, and Noah leans forward, barely moving in and out of Finn as Kurt pushes two fingers inside, briefly, then nudges at Noah with the head of his cock. “I want you to fuck him as hard as I’m fucking you.”

“Yeah,” Noah agrees, pushing hard into Finn, watching Finn’s face closely. “Really hard, blue eyes, fuck us hard.”

“Mmmhmm.” Kurt slides into Noah in one movement, hands gripping tight on Noah’s hips. “I will. Make you feel it, feel so good.”

Finn’s making noises underneath Noah, but none of them are actually words. He brings one hand up to slide into Noah’s hair, the other reaching forward to touch Kurt’s leg. Noah rocks forward with Kurt’s motion, pushing into Finn, and it takes a few thrusts before they find their rhythm, locked into one another. “Like that, darling?” Noah murmurs, eyes on Finn’s face. 

“Yessss,” Finn says, and it comes out in a little whine. 

“Yeah, you feel good,” Noah gasps out. “Fuck. Both of you, just _fuck_.”

“That’s right, baby,” Kurt whispers. “Take it and give it, both of us, my beautiful boys.” One of Kurt’s hands leaves Noah’s hip, sliding forward to curl around Finn’s cock, and they establish themselves again, slipping and sliding against each other. Finn’s hand slides out of Noah’s hair and travels down until he’s holding Noah’s hip, fingers digging into the muscle of Noah’s ass, pulling Noah against him and into him. 

“Yeah, oh, fuck.” Noah closes his eyes. “So close. You two, fuck.”

“God, Puck, harder,” Finn mutters. “Fuck me harder. C’mon, _please_.” He squeezes Noah’s hip harder, clenches his muscles around Noah’s cock. 

Noah pushes into Finn as far as he can, feeling Kurt do the same to him, and the last brush of Kurt’s cock against his prostate is just too much, too much on top of Kurt’s hand and Finn’s hand and how tight Finn’s ass is around him. Noah bites down on his lip, hard, and drives into Finn a final time as he comes, Kurt still pounding into him. 

“Tell him, K,” Noah whispers. “Let him.”

There’s a tiny hitch in Kurt’s movements, and then Kurt whispers as he hums. “Come for us, Finn, come all over us.” Kurt explodes into Noah as he speaks, and Noah keeps his eyes cracked just enough to watch Finn. 

Finn says “oh” in a tiny voice and then comes all over his stomach, his hips snapping up and his eyes squeezing shut. Noah can’t hold himself up any longer, slumping to the side and taking Kurt with him, both of them half on top of Finn, who’s just lying there, looking giddy and boneless. Finn wraps his arms around Noah and Kurt and sighs something that sounds a lot like “mine”.

“Have we had a good weekend?” Kurt murmurs after a few moments pass, and Noah nods. 

“Yes.”

“Don’t wanna go back,” Finn mutters.

Noah grunts a little laugh and wiggles to get more comfortable. “I want to sleep now. Like this.”

Finn hooks the blankets with his foot and pulls them up far enough to grab them, covering the three of them with the blankets. “Sleep, baby,” Kurt whispers. “Sleep, darling.”

“Mmkay,” Finn murmurs, putting his arms back around them. 

 

On the way out of Lima, Finn swings them through a drive-through to get a drink. He passes one to Kurt and then leans over to hand another one to Noah, then pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards I–75. “Somebody put some music on,” he tells them. “I don’t even care what.”

“You might if I put on my walking-to-class playlist,” Kurt laughs, but he pulls Puck’s phone off his hip and hooks it up. “A couple of monologues, songs for class, songs for auditions.”

“Are the monologues in your voice or somebody else’s?” Finn asks. “I’d listen to monologues if it’s you.”

“Some of both. Zachary and Allison plotted together back in the spring and one morning I found myself listening to Monty Python, as read by them.”

“Which one? Is it the parrot one?” Finn asks. “I like the parrot one.”

“It was like, five different ones,” Puck interjects with a chuckle. “I was about to walk into class and my phone rings. ‘Noah! You won’t believe what they did’!”

“You guys have some _weird_ friends,” Finn says, shaking his head. 

“You have a cheering squad that calls itself Eleven’s Lezzies, dude.”

“Noah does make a good point.”

“Hey, now. You leave my girls out of this!” Finn snorts. “They’re awesome. You _wish_ you had that cheering squad.”

“Never said they weren’t awesome. Just, glass houses, dude.”

“I live in a _dorm_. My windows are only like two feet across.”

“It’s a metaphor. Or a simile. Or something.”

“You’re a metaphor.”

“No, I’m a stereotype.” Puck laughs and then takes a sip of his pop. 

“Nah, you’re just Puck,” Finn says. “Nobody else like you.”

“Thank god,” Kurt teases. “The world couldn’t handle two.”

“ _You_ could.”

Finn laughs. “One of each of you is good. Two of either of you and the world would, like, implode or explode or whatever.”

“Maybe both at once,” Kurt muses. As they reach an empty stretch of the interstate, Puck turns from the window and leans against Kurt, who leans on Finn in turn. Finn sighs happily, enjoying their warmth and their weight. 

“It’s time,” Puck says with a little sigh as they hit I–80/I–90 and enter Indiana. 

“Time for what?” Finn asks, though he has a suspicion and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t like that time at all.

“You know,” Kurt says softly, one hand tracing a circle on Finn’s thigh. “The harder part.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t think it’s time for that.”

“It’s never gonna be something you want to think it’s time for.”

“I have a letter. Puck gave me a letter. Isn’t that enough talking about it?” Finn asks. “Can’t I just, like, drive back to UW with my letter? I’ll tell Syd my letter, and she can, I dunno. Tell me where to put it.”

“It’s not about the letter,” Kurt says, “but you know that. You— _we_ —have to decide about the rest of the world. Outside of Syd.”

“Fuck the rest of the world,” Finn mutters. “None of their business.”

“No, it’s not,” Puck agrees. “But they’ve started making it their business.” He shrugs a little. “And for us, you know. It’s not really a big deal.”

“Well, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about them.”

“Well.” Kurt sighs a little. “The thing is, darling, that we’re – we’d be perfectly fine to tell people. No one exactly cares what two gay college students in New York like to do on the weekend. But we need to know what you want. What we need to do in order to keep it a secret, if that’s what you want.”

Finn sighs and bangs the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. “Fuck,” he says. “I hate this. I don’t want you to have to keep any kind of secret for me or about me.”

“But we’re pretty sure you’re not in a position to shout it from the rooftops,” Puck points out. “And we understand that. We just – we all three need to be on a same page, here.”

“No, you’re right. I just really fucking hate that you’re right. I can’t just… I’m not ready to—” Finn smacks his hand against the steering wheel again. “Fuck.”

Kurt’s hand stills on his leg, just resting there. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“We just don’t want to put our feet in it or something. There’s a lot of grey between ‘no one’ and ‘everyone’.”

“Syd knows,” Finn says. “I feel like. I dunno, I feel like I should let the girls know, or Syd should. It just seems like the right thing to do, and they won’t tell people. It’s… it’s not even that _I_ care if people know, guys. It’s just, you know, _some_ people would care, and I keep thinking about that thing at LSU, and… and there’s just gonna be so many questions and…”

Kurt nods. “Some people wouldn’t understand, and some people _really_ wouldn’t understand. And yes, well.” He picks up his free hand and gestures to indicate the three of them. “This is a little different. Not bad. But different.”

“I love you. Both of you,” Finn says. “I just… I have a lot of things I have to be for other people. And being those things, that pays for my school, that’s what… it’s not just about me and you guys, or me and what I want, or me and who I want to tell.”

Kurt and Puck both nod, like he’s not saying anything they haven’t thought about already, maybe. “And we love you,” Puck answers after a moment. “We want you happy _and_ safe, darling. But we don’t know— we don’t know what the rules are, I guess you could say.”

“I think just, in Wisconsin, we have to be more careful. I have to pay more attention to what I do.” Finn sighs. “Somebody obviously saw us, there’s just no other way.”

“Okay.” Kurt nods. “And, well, obviously I think we have Lima well figured out.”

“And New York? I mean, except for Mad River and then your friends, it’s not like anybody knows who I am,” Finn says. “So, when I’m there, it works however you think it needs to work.”

“Zachary knows,” Kurt says quietly. “I wasn’t exactly able to control my reaction when I read it.”

“How’d, uh… how’d he react?”

“Well, he was stoned,” Puck snorts. “You know he’s stoned most of the time. He hasn’t mentioned it since, so he must not be too weirded out.”

Finn laughs, but it sounds strange, kind of tinny and far away. “Do you… do you _want_ any of them to know?”

Kurt and Puck exchange a long look before Kurt responds. “It— it would be nice, not to pretend. When you visit. But. Not if it’s going to make you uncomfortable in any way.”

Finn takes a deep breath and rolls the idea around in his head. Not having to pretend, in at least one city in the world… it’s not a horrible idea. It doesn’t feel bad. “Ok. Yeah,” he says. “When I’m in New York, it’s… _us_. Just don’t, uh.”

“Rachel?” Puck guesses. “Yeah, no.”

“Yeah. No,” Finn agrees. “In Lima, it’s how it has been. In Madison, us in my dorm room, maybe with Syd and the girls, me and my brothers everywhere else?”

They both nod. “Alright.” Kurt’s hand starts to move on his thigh again, slow circles. There’s a brief pause, and there’s definitely some mischief in Kurt’s voice when he speaks again. “What about in your truck?”

“Us.”

There’s another pause, and Puck’s hand replaces Kurt’s as Kurt’s lips press against his neck. “Duly noted.”


	8. Finn's Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's going to put it in a nice frame. [7 October 2013]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this brings us to the end of our Blind Item story cycle! Tune in next week for our between-fic, followed by a hiatus week, before we start the next story cycle: Crossed Wires.

Finn’s kicked back in Syd’s papasan chair thing, drinking one of her Satisfaction Jacksin microbrew beers, when he announces, “I have a letter.”

“A letter to whom?” Syd looks over at him quizzically. 

“A letter to… me. I mean, no, it’s _my_ letter. I have one. Puck gave it to me.”

“Noah wrote you a letter?”

“Nah, nah, my alphabet soup letter. Puck gave it to me, but that probably means he and Kurt talked about it first or something,” Finn says. “I don’t think he’d give a letter without asking Kurt about it first.”

“Oh. Ohh. Okay.” She shrugs and takes a drink of her own beer. “What, uh, letter did he give you?”

“P,” Finn says. “Well, technically that’d be a Q, but you know, it’s a P; a P that’s a Q.”

“Right.” Syd must be getting used to Finn by now, because she doesn’t look all that confused. “Uh. How do you feel about that?”

“No, it’s good, I think. I mean, it kinda makes it easier, I guess? Less confusing or whatever.”

“Well, yeah. I can see where letting people think you’re straight even though you regularly have sex with two guys would be just a little confusing.”

“You don’t have to put it like that, Syd.”

“How should I put it like?”

“Uh. Hmm. I don’t know that I’d put it any specific way, since, you know. I really don’t talk about it to other people.”

“Ookay. Well, I take it you actually did talk about it with them? This weekend?”

“Yeah, we talked. I didn’t wanna. They made me,” Finn says. “And, well, Kurt’s the bossofme, so, I guess if he says talk…”

“Somehow this is all unsurprising. Did it help, though?”

“Yeah, I mean, I think it did. I don’t feel so… you know, like whatever. How I was the last couple of weeks,” Finn says. “Less paranoid, maybe, so that’s good.”

“I hate to bring it up, Finn, but did you guys _also_ talk about well… the kind of thing that precipitated all of this?”

“Well, it’s been raining for weeks, Syd.”

Syd rolls her eyes. “What brought it to the forefront.”

Finn shrugs. “I dunno. I guess somebody saw something or heard something. No way to know for sure, I guess, unless I start going around interviewing people, and that might just sorta cause more trouble than it actually solves.”

“Yeah, I’d think so.” Syd shakes her head again. “No, I mean, going forward. How… open? You’re going to be?”

“Oh. Yeah. We talked about that. Um, I guess… not? Not here, anyway. I’ve gotta play or I don’t get to take my classes, Syd, and, I dunno. UW’s pretty great with the tolerance stuff, but, maybe not so much with the quarterback?”

“Maybe not so much with the threesome, either,” she says gently. 

“Yeah. Maybe not so much with that, either.”

“So… do your parents know?”

“Oh _god_ no! What, are you _crazy_?” Finn stares at Syd, waiting to see if maybe she’s gonna sprout some horns or breathe fire or something.

“It was just a question! Why, you think they’d freak?” Syd looks at him disbelievingly. 

“Uh, _yeah_ they’d freak. Jesus Christ, Syd, what parent wouldn’t freak out about this?”

“I just meant the P, you idiot. Not the three of you.”

“Oh. That. Uh, no. Not that either.”

“Okay.” Syd stops and thinks for a moment. “From everything you’ve said, I don’t think they’d be upset.”

“Well, Burt’s cool, obviously, and… I dunno. My mom wants grandkids, and she’s just got a way she needs me to be, and it’s just… She wouldn’t be ok with that. _Trust_ me that she wouldn’t be ok with that.”

“Hmm.” Syd takes a drink of beer. “Like it’s okay that you have Kurt but she needs one straight kid?” She sounds skeptical.

“Uh. Actually? Kind of,” Finn says, shrugging. “I mean, I’m the football-playing son. My job is to marry a nice girl and have lots of babies, maybe have some kind of title or something.”

“Hudson, how many queers were on your team in high school, again?”

“Well, there was Puck, obviously, only nobody much knew about it. Karofsky, but he was mostly only out to PFLAG. Kurt only played for a few games, so I don’t know that he counts. Oh, and Brown.” Syd raises her eyebrows and looks at him pointedly. “What?”

“And you, Mister-I-have-a-letter.”

“Oh, yeah. Right, I guess that’s true.”

“There’s probably a couple of guys here walking around queer, too, you know. I’m sure Kurt and Noah have drilled statistics into your head.” Syd shrugs. 

“I know too damn much about statistics, Syd,” Finn says.

Syd looks at him inquiringly. “Oh?”

Finn raises and lowers one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “There was a thing. Statistics got real world application.”

“Oh.” Syd sighs. “They have a nasty habit of doing that.”

“True that.”

“Anyway, I grok what you’re saying about your mom. Sucks, though.”

“Yeah, it does, but what do you do, right?” Finn says. “Keep marching on.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Syd agrees with a nod. “Well. Congratulations on your letter.”

“Thanks. I’m thinking of getting it printed up and putting it in a nice frame.”

“What color?”

“Probably red. I’m thinking a purple P would be, like, redundant or something.”

“How very school-spirit of you.”

“I like my job.”

“Your job?”

“Yeah. Working out is my job. Well, I guess playing football is my job, but also working out.” Finn grins. “They _like_ my job.”

Syd laughs. “I’m sure they do, Finn.”


End file.
